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Mr. Foley of Salmon 


A Story of Life in a California 
Village 


By J. J. Curran 

>1 


PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR 
1907 

PRINTED BY MELVIN, HILLIS & BLACK 

San Jose, California 


s . 



CC<'i 


TlksASYof OONGHESsf 


\ 


Two Copies Received 

JUl 29 90 r 

, Ossyfight E«try 

XXCtj No> 

/ y 96 >sj 

COPY B. 


Copyrighted, 1907, by 
J. J. Curran 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


CHAPTER I 


1 HE Villagers of SAWYERS BAR DECIDE TO 

Engage a Lady Teacher — Mr. Davis Is 
Sent on a Mission. 



IHE arrival of the United States mail at Saw- 


yers Bar, a mining: town of some five hundred 


^ inhabitants, situated in Siskiyou County, the 
most northern county in the g:reat State of California, 
was an event of more than ordinary interest to the 
people of that burg: on a Saturday in the month of 
May ; the major portion of the community was ar- 
rayed in holiday attire, or as Mr. Foley remarked, 
had their “ store clothes ” on. 

The cause of this display was the expected com- 
ing of a lady school teacher, the first in the history 
of the town, so the appearance of the mail coach 
was awaited by a larger concourse than usual. Since 
the establishment of the District up to the present 
epoch, a male pedagogue had presided over and 
taught the young idea how to shoot. The employ- 
ment of a lady teacher was an innovation that the 
parents viewed with distrust and failed to see the 
wisdom of. When the fiat had gone forth that the 
Trustees had engaged a young lady from San Fran- 
cisco for the ensuing term, the question of her abil- 
ity to discipline the pupils had been argued pro 
and con among all classes. It was the chief topic 
of conversation, and the concensus of opinion was 


5 


that no woman was equal to the task, for Sawyers 
Bar enjoyed the unenviable reputation of being the 
most difficult school in the county to maiidge. i'he 
register showed an average attendance of fifty 
scholars ; among this number were some boys from 
14 to 17 years of age, who made the duration of the 
teacher a bane. An incumbent who succeeded in 
staying out the term, never applied for a second, so 
it came to a condition that it was next to impossible 
to procure a teacher. 

Mr. George Davis was one of the Trustees and 
Clerk of the Board. On this memorable occasion, 
as the time for opening school approached, he called 
a meeting of the Trustees and addressed them thus : 
‘‘Gentlemen, I must remind you that it is nearing 
the time when school should begin. You are 
familiar with these facts, viz: that our school is a 
hard proposition; of the trouble our predecessors 
have experienced in securing teachers. From what 
I can learn, there is no competent instructor in the 
county who desires the place at any salary; there 
is no citizen of this District who wants the office 
of Trustee. You are aware that at the last election 
the position literally went begging. Affairs have 
reached a crisis. It’s up to us. What are we going 
to do about it? Have you a remedy to suggest?” 

Mr. Crane suggested they follow the usual custom 
and try to employ a man. Mr. Knowlton, the third 
Trustee, said he could see no other alternative. 


6 


‘‘Well/’ resumed Mr. Davis, “I propose a change; 
that is, we hire a lady.” 

“A woman teach this school,” exclaimed Mr. 
Crane, “it’s absurd. Those larger boys would make 
it intolerant for her, and I doubt if she would 
remain a month.” 

Mr. Knowlton acquiesced in this opinion. 

“Listen,” said Mr. Davis, “I have cogitated on 
this subject; I can see no other solution but to try 
a lady teacher. I confess it will be an experiment. 
In the past the men have exhausted all kinds of 
means ; moral suasion and corporal punishment 
have availed nothing. Those boys have been sus- 
pended and expelled a number of times. On promis- 
ing to reform, they have been re-instated, only to 
resume their habits of mischief. Complaints have 
been lodged with the Trustees, until they have 
become annoyed and disgusted with the whole 
business. A lady for teacher I am determined to 
have; if you do not coincide in this view, I will 
resign. In a few days I leave for the Bay City. My 
friends will direct me to select a competent first 
grade teacher. Give me your consent in this matter 
and I will assume the responsibility and onus 
should it result in disaster.” 

“We yield to your logic. Go ahead; we will 
support you. Our school will have everything to 
gain, and nothing to lose,” replied the other 
Trustees. 

So the vexed question was settled. That evening 
Mr. Davis conceived the idea that the time was 


7 


opportune to acquaint the public generally with the 
information. He sauntered into the leading resort, 
where were congregated typical representatives of 
the community. He saluted all affably; exchanged 
a few pointers on the weather, and discussed the 
outlook for the mines. Fixing his gaze upon Mr. 
O’Brien, the father of the most incorrigible boy, he 
exclaimed: “Did you hear the latest?” Being 
answered in the negative he continued : “The 
Trustees have decided to engage a lady to teach 
this school the coming term.” 

“You surely don’t mean it.” “You are springing 
a joke on us,” were the remarks that greeted his 
ears. 

“Gentlemen, I was never more in earnest in my 
life.” As he perceived several were about to speak, 
he raised his hand to command silence. “Hear me 
out. I can anticipate any objection or argument 
you are about to make. I have thoroughly can- 
vassed the question, and spent some time pondering 
over the possibility of success or failure of the 
venture. I opine that an experienced lady with her 
gentle ways and mild discipline, will subdue and 
captivate the pupils. I hope the future will fulfill 
this prediction. I ask you to reserve your decision 
until we have given the lady an impartial trial, and 
place no obstacle in her way. Should it result differ- 
ent from what I have prophesied, I assure you I 
will come to you and candidly acknowledge I have 
erred, and my judgment was at fault.” 


8 


Mr. Davis was a voluble speaker. His words 
carried weight and conviction. He was the leading 
merchant of the town, highly respected by all and 
an influential man. 

“A word with you, Mr. Davis,” spoke Mr. 
Foley. ‘‘I wish you would secure a good looking 
single lady, and possibly some of us old bachelors 
might induce her to take another name and pre- 
side over a miner's domicile. I am going to take 
time by the forelock and announce myself as a can- 
didate for matrimonial honors right now.” This 
sally evoked laughter, and closed the incident for 
the time. 

Mr. Davis arrived in San Francisco. For many 
years he had purchased merchandise of a wholesale 
firm. The senior partner was Mr. Stevens. When 
Mr. Davis had finished business he made known to 
Mr. Stevens his commission to employ a teacher. 
He gave a detailed account of the school, and what 
he considered it required, and invoked the aid of 
the city merchant. Mr. Davis paused, and Mr. 
Stevens made answer: have in mind the identi- 

cal lady that will suit you. You will be truly 
fortunate to secure her services; the more you 
become acquainted with her the better you will like 
her. I believe you will be delighted with her. This 
young lady's name is Miss May Wilton. I have 
known her since childhood, and I regard her with 
almost the same affection that I feel toward my 
own daughter. She is a most estimable lady, and is 
everything you could desire. She is a first grade 

9 


teacher, and has been employed in the Public 
School in Oakland for the past four years. She 
wishes a change. Only last week she came to me 
and said, would like a position in some remote 
place; if you hear of any such, please notify me.’ 
She has experienced trouble for which she is not 
responsible. To conclude, she is a frank, honorable 
young lady.” Mr. Davis replied, I am perfectly 
satisfied with your recommendation and eulogy of 
the lady. Arrange a meeting between us, and I 
guarantee a situation awaits her, and that so far as 
the Trustees are able, she will be well treated and 
taken care of.” Said Mr. Stevens, “ I know her 
address and will send for her. Come here tomorrow 
at 2 p. m. and I will introduce you.” 

On the following day, at the appointed hour, Mr. 
Davis wended his way to the private office of Mr. 
Stevens. This gentleman had specially named an 
hour earlier for Miss Wilton to call at his office, 
in order to give information and prepare her for 
the interview. He met Mr. Davis with a cheery, 
'‘How are you today, sir? You are punctual,” and 
escorted him to where a lady was seated, evidently 
awaiting the meeting. As the two men approached 
she arose to an erect position. Mr. Stevens took the 
lady by the hand in a fatherly way, saying, “Permit 
me. Miss Wilton, to introduce to you my friend, 
Mr. Davis. Mr. Davis, one of my dearest lady 
friends. Miss Wilton, of whom I spoke to you.” 
She extended her hand graciously and said, “I am 
pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Davis.” 

10 


This gentleman managed to ejaculate, *T am 
delighted to meet you, Miss Wilton.” Then he 
collapsed into silence. An hypnotic spell seized 
him. He had expected to see an ordinary lady of 
passable appearance, but was not prepared for the 
feminine loveliness that burst upon his vision. 

She was above the medium in stature. Her 
avoirdupois was approximately 130 pounds. The 
superb mass of dark brown hair lay in glossy folds 
above the perfect brow. The dark eyes glowed with 
that beauty which comes from a cultured mind. 
They were orbs that seemed to hold one spell-bound 
when focused upon them. Her nose would be 
termed Roman. Her mouth was a small, delicately 
chiseled aperture of the rosebud order. She was 
attired in a tailor-made suit of the latest fashion; 
the fabric revealed the slender, graceful and rounded 
outlines of symmetry and youth. 

Mr. Stevens had given no intimation to Mr. Davis 
of her beauty, and enjoyed his embarrassment. Mr. 
Davis was brought to a realization of the present 
by Mr. Stevens enquiring: '^Are you content with 
the profile of my friend?” ‘T am most agreeably 
surprised; you have sprung a sensation on me,” 
responded Mr. Davis. To Miss Wilton he said, 
'Tardon my absent-mindedness, I trust we may 
become better acquainted and loyal friends,” Mr. 
Stevens withdrew, leaving them to discuss the 
business for which they had met. 

“Miss Wilton, I presume Mr. Stevens has im- 
parted to you the nature of my errand, and prepared 

11 


you for what I am about to say/^ She bowed in 
the affirmative. ‘1 tender you the position of 
teacher for the Sawyers Bar school. If you accept 
you will have the distinction of being the first lady 
to preside as tutor.^’ He was candid, and disclosed 
the vexatious features. “The Trustees will give 
you every support in their power. It is no sinecure, 
but I feel confident you will succeed. I would 
wager my existence on your mastering those turbu- 
lent scholars. Your salary will be $90.00 per month. 
A term is from 8 to 10 months duration, depending 
upon the weather. Two days hence I wish to leave 
for home. If this is satisfactory and you can be 
ready, I will be pleased to have you accompany me. 
We wish to commence school. Will you accept? 
Are you prepared to answer 

Not for a moment did she hesitate. Looking him 
calmly in the face, she replied : “I will be ready. I 
will go.” 

“The train starts from the Oakland mole at 6:30 
p. m. Do you prefer that I shall call at your resi- 
dence, or will you meet me?” inquired Mr. Davis. 

“I will be in the waiting room at the appointed 
time,” answered Miss Wilton. 

They exchanged good-byes and separated. The 
6:00 p. m. ferry boat across the Bay carried Mr. 
Davis. On arriving at the mole, he went direct to 
the waiting room. His eyes were gladdened by a 
sight of Miss Wilton, arrayed in a gray traveling 
costume, and ready for the journey. Seizing her 
12 


hand, he exclaimed, '‘Seeing you here has restored 
my tranquility. I feared you might reconsider your 
decision.” 

Returning his greeting, she made answer: “As a 
rule I am not vacillating. I know it is attributed to 
our sex, but unless there are reasons, I do not alter 
my mind.” 

“Have you a ticket, and how much baggage have 
you?” he enquired. 

“A trunk and hand satchel. I have not purchased 
a ticket, as I was ignorant of our destination.” 

He sought the office; bought two tickets for 
Montague ; saw that her baggage was checked, 
and returned to the waiting room. Miss Wilton 
enquired as to the amount of her ticket and offered 
to reimburse him, but he assured her that it was 
part of the agreement between the Trustees that 
they should defray her expenses to Sawyers Bar. 
This appeased her. Taking her satchel, he said, 
“We had better select seats and make ourselves 
comfortable.” 

The north-bound train pulled out on time. As 
Oakland receded in the distance a wistful expression 
was perceptible upon the countenance of Miss Wil- 
ton. Her thoughts were reminiscent of the many 
happy years spent there and of the cheerful home, 
loving relatives and kind friends she was leaving 
behind. Two tiny tears hovered for an instant, but 
were obliterated by the speedy use of her handker- 
chief. Noticing her dejected manner, Mr. Davis 
sought to divert her mind by entering upon a 

13 


description of the country they were going to, and 
the people she would come in contact with. He 
impressed upon her that the usages in the mines 
were somewhat at variance from what she had been 
accustomed to in the city. He gave advice that 
would benefit her in her vocation. “Whenever you 
are perplexed or in trouble, come or send for me. I 
wish you to rely on me and consider me your true 
friend.’^ “Thank you very much, Mr. Davis. I shall 
certainly do so if an occasion requires, but I hope 
for smooth sailing. I shall not borrow trouble nor 
cross the bridge before it is reached.” 

They conversed on different subjects; the beau- 
tiful scenery, the luxury and comfort of travel at 
the present time as compared with the hardships 
endured by Pioneers some fifty years ago; praised 
the energy and up-to-date methods of the people of 
the Golden State, and mutually agreed that nowhere 
on the face of the universe was there a paradise 
equal to California. Mr. Davis looked at his watch 
and found the time to be lo p. m. “I have secured 
a berth in the Pullman for you. Whenever you wish 
to retire, I will call the colored attendant.” “I am 
somewhat fatigued from the labor incident to pack- 
ing and preparation for this journey, so I will avail 
myself of your kind thoughtfulness,” said Miss 
Wilton. 

Mr. Davis went in quest of the ebony-hued son 
of Africa; found him, and returned to Miss Wilton. 
They bade each other good night. Mr. Davis 
sought the smoking car to indulge in a soothing 

14 


weed before seeking his couch. As he watched the 
smoke from the cigar curl upwards, he was in a 
reverie. The object of his train of thought was Miss 
Wilton. He surmised she had a lover who in some 
manner had gotten into the clutches of the law and 
was the cause of her leaving home ; that she believed 
him innocent and was constant to him, Mr. Davis 
had no doubt. “She is the handsomest young lady 
I ever met, and will create a surprise at Sawyers 
Bar. All the unmarried men will be at her feet. It 
will be a damper on their wooing when they find 
out she has a lover.” Having settled the problem to 
his satisfaction, he became conscious of a drowsy 
feeling, and sought the sleeping car. 

The next morning he arose, dressed, performed 
his ablution, and went into the passenger car. He 
found Miss Wilton had forestalled him, and was 
occupied in reading the paper. With a pleasant 
smile and “Good morning, Mr. Davis, I hope you 
enjoyed a refreshing sleep,” she made room for him 
by her side. “Yes, indeed,” he answered, “I must 
have slept as fast as the car traveled; nothing dis- 
turbed my slumbers. You look as bright and fresh 
as a daisy. Miss Wilton.” “Yes, my looks must be 
an index to my feelings. I feel revived and ever 
so much better.” The colored porter announced 
breakfast. 

As Mr. Davis and Miss Wilton entered the dining 
car, he became cognizant that numerous eyes were 
directed towards them. He readily divined that his 
fair companion was the object of their scrutiny. On 

15 


the preceding evening when they took passage, she 
was veiled and her features concealed from view. 
This morning she had removed the covering, and 
her perfectly lovely physique stood revealed to the 
fellow passengers. Mr. Davis enjoyed the conspic- 
uous role he was enacting, of associate to the hand- 
some young lady, and the envious glances of the 
male passengers did not disconcert him during the 
progress of the meal. Mr. Davis informed Miss 
Wilton that if the train was on time they would 
arrive at Montague at 2 130 p. m. ''Can I help you 
to anything more?” he asked. "No, thank you; in 
the language of the lady from the hub of the 
universe, I have allayed the clamorous cravings of 
a rapacious appetite until an inner sense of justice 
admonishes me to say I have had an ample 
sufficiency; any more would be a redundant super- 
fluity.” Back to the passenger car went the lady 
and gentleman. At dinner time neither felt an 
inclination for food. The train sped on, also the 
time. The whistle blew a signal for approaching 
a town. "This is where we change cars,” said Mr. 
Davis. 

A branch road from Yreka to Montague met the 
Southern Pacific passenger trains, north and south 
bound. They secured seats and were conveyed to 
Yreka, a distance of eight miles, in about 15 minutes. 
Yreka is the County Seat of Siskiyou. It is a pros- 
perous thriving city of 2,500 inhabitants. Siskiyou 
County is famed for its gold mines and agricultural 
resources. A daily stage line connected with the 

16 


train, and carried passengers and mail to Etna 
Mills, 32 miles. On this coach Miss Wilton and 
Mr. Davis embarked. At 6 p. m. Fort Jones was 
reached, where the stage stopped for supper and to 
change horses. This is a well-to-do town situated 
in the center of Scott’s Valley and contiguous to a 
rich mining section. Our passengers had developed 
an appetite and sought the nearest hotel where they 
did justice to the repast. The driver announced 
“All aboard,” and the journey was continued. He 
was a taciturn individual who attended strictly to 
business. He ventured no assertions, but sawed 
wood. 

A cluster of lights were discerned at 8 p. m. 
“That is Etna Mills,” said Mr. Davis, “where we 
tarry for the night.” In a brief space of time the 
coach drew on to the main street and halted before 
the leading hotel. Mr. Davis sought the landlord 
and engaged the best suite of rooms for Miss Wil- 
ton. The landlady appeared and assured Mr. Davis 
that the best in the house would be provided for the 
young lady. As he bade her good-night he re- 
marked, “Tomorrow we complete the stage ride and 
reach our destination.” He made use of the tele- 
phone, sending a message to Sawyers Bar saying 
the lady teacher and himself would arrive the fol- 
lowing day. He procured for the lady and self the 
outside seats on the coach. 

The next morning he entered the parlor, where 
his companion was waiting. They repaired to the 
dining-room, where breakfast was served. “So 


17 


today ends our itineracy. I am pleased ; not 
but what I have enjoyed the traveling, for you have 
been very attentive and provided me with every 
comfort, but I am anxious to see my new home, be- 
come acquainted with the people and win the esteem 
and confidence of the pupils,” said the lady. *'If 
you accomplish this, you will have done what no 
masculine pedagogue has ever effected. Now let 
us prepare for the start,” said Mr. Davis. The 
coach was ready. He introduced the driver to Miss 
Wilton, saying: “This is Mr. Foster, he is to be 
our pilot today. Our lives to a great extent are in 
his keeping. You need have no fears.” 

“I always am on my best behavior when I have 
lady passengers. I am like the balance of mankind, 
partial to the society of the gentler sex. As Hauk 
Monk said to Horace Greely: If you keep your 
seats, I will get you there on time,” spoke the Jehu. 

The lady was assisted to a seat. Mr. Foster gath- 
ered the ribbons, swung the whip to the breeze 
with a resounding whack; the team struck into a 
trot, and Etna Mills was soon left behind. 

Jack Foster was a loquacious person. Before the 
completion of the railroad from Redding to Port- 
land he was in the employ of the California and 
Oregon Stage Company for awhile. He drove on 
a route from Redding to Weaverville. He had been 
held up twice ; once supposed to be by the Ruggles 
Brothers, who were afterwards lynched by a throng 
of indignant citizens for shooting a Wells-Fargo 
messenger; and once by Black Bart, styled the 
18 


Prince of Highwaymen. Bart was a polite knight 
of the road who prefaced his request to throw out 
the treasure box by remarking: “Sorry to detain 
you, but I need the contents of that box in my 
business.” When the box was delivered, Bart would 
add : “If you see the Chief of Detectives, Mr. 
Hume, convey to him my kindest regards.” 

From Etna Mills to the summit of Salmon Moun- 
tain is a gradual ascent of nine miles. The progress 
of the coach was necessarily slow. It was a magni- 
ficent day in spring. The air was redolent with the 
aroma of wild flowers which grew in profusion 
along the way side. Birds of many varieties and 
gorgeous plumage in their native element sang 
their carols from tree and bush. The driver was in 
an amiable mood. He regaled the company with 
many amusing anecdotes. He had a store of in- 
teresting information. The road wound around 
a precipitous incline, which sloped upwards and 
back hundreds of feet. “Right here,” said he, “is 
where two men were overtaken by a snow slide and 
had the life crushed out of them. It was in the winter 
season, when the trip over this mountain can only 
be made on Norwegian or Ski snow-shoes. 
These men were familiar with the mountains and 
the dangerous places where slides are liable to 
occur. It was the custom to make a detour and 
cross to the opposite side of the creek; this was a 
circuitous and somewhat longer distance than to 
pass directly under Granite Slide, as this is called. 

19 


The mail carrier had passed in advance of them, 
and had taken the shorter way. It is presumed they 
were anxious to overtake him, so followed his lead. 
They had reached this point when an immense body 
of snow descended and caught them. The mail 
carrier was aware the men were following. When 
he reached Etna Mills he reported; after a reason- 
able time elapsed and they failed to put in an ap- 
pearance, the citizens feared they had met disaster. 
A large party started. When they arrived at 
Granite Slide, a huge avalanche of snow was per- 
ceived. They surmised the men were under it, so 
set to work digging. After uncovering twenty feet 
in depth, they found the bodies of the two men. Life 
was extinct.'^ 

One mile from the summit a cabin was sighted. 
“That is the mail carrier’s. In it are kept a stove, 
dry wood and provisions. It has done noble service 
in the past. A number of men who knew of its 
presence, and were nearly exhausted, owe the pres- 
ervation of their lives to its hospitality. It is com- 
pletely covered by snow in winter. You will notice 
those trees growing alongside, and the deep cuts in 
them. These are guides, to show the precise loca- 
tion of the cabin. Wishing to enter, a man digs 
down, finds the door which opens from the outside, 
builds a fire, partakes of the food, passes a com- 
fortable night, and the next morning is able to pro- 
ceed.” 

The summit was reached. A halt was made to 
give the passengers a view of the scenery. To the 

20 


west, in the direction they were going, could be seen 
the Salmon River, winding its way through a 
rugged canyon, gliding onward to the sea. The 
sun reflecting upon its waters, cast a bright light, 
dazzling the eyes with its silvery sheen. As the 
road went, the distance to where this stream was 
discernible was fourteen miles. To the east could 
be perceived Mount Shasta, towering in its majestic 
glory, its apex covered with snow, the boast of the 
State, the highest mountain in California. 

Scott’s Valley could be seen to its best advantage. 
Nicely laid out farms, thrifty in appearance, greeted 
the vision. To the north and south as far as the 
eye could reach mountains and chains of mountains 
seemed to vie with each other for eminence, their 
sides covered with growths of splendid timber of 
different species. Here and there ice cold springs 
and creeks of limpid water sprang into existence. 
Could a person be invested with power to transplant 
one of these sparkling streams in proximity to a 
great city like New York or San Francisco, he 
would possess a greater bonanza than the Standard 
Oil Company or a gold mine. The altitude from 
which they gazed is some six thousand feet. Miss 
Wilton went into raptures over the magnificent 
panorama spread before her. “Never have I beheld 
such a grand view of nature’s works. My command 
of language is inadequate to properly portray it. I 
shall retain a vivid recollection of what I have seen 
today as long as memory lasts. Some writers have 

21 


advised to “See Venice and die,” but my advice to 
them is to see Salmon Mountain and live.” 

Having expressed satisfaction with the feast of 
scenery, the driver inspected the coach, team and 
harness and found all in good condition. They 
remounted and began the descent. Glancing to- 
wards the lady, Mr. Foster said : “I trust you are 
not timid. We are a little behind time, having 
tarried on the summit. Put your faith in Provi- 
dence, and incidentally in me, and we will make up 
the deficiency.” 

“The assurance given me of your skill would 
allay any fear I might have,” answered the lady. 
The manipulator of the reins spoke to the team. 
They responded with vigor. When a curve was to 
be rounded, he applied the brake, uttered a caution, 
“steady there,” and instantly their gait slackened. 
When the danger spot was passed, he would again 
address them, “All right, go ahead.” They responded 
with a faster motion. He regulated their speed by 
the tone of his voice. He maintained perfect con- 
trol of the horses. They understood what was re- 
quired ; he was kind and never abused them ; it was 
rarely that any of the team felt the lash. Miss 
Wilton noticed this, and remarked: “Mr. Foster, 
there seems to be a mutual agreement between you 
and the animals.” “Yes, we have confidence in each 
other. I treat them right and they appreciate it.” 

Some buildings loomed up in the distance. “That 
is the Mountain House where we stop for dinner.” 
The hostelry reached, the passengers alighted. A 
22 


large watering trough, filled with delicious nectar, 
^v/iiuiioaity of the Inn. The horses were anx- 
ious to slake their thirst, but were restrained by 
check reins. ‘'Oh, let them drink, Mr. Foster; it 
seems cruel to deny them when they seem so 
thirsty,” spoke Miss Wilton. “We have traveled 
seven miles in a trifle less than an hour, which is 
going some when it comes to mountain staging ; they 
are heated; if I allowed them to drink now of this 
cold water, it might produce colic or founder them,” 
answered the Jehu. “Pardon me, I was ignorant 
of the results, and actuated by kindly motives.” “I 
took no offense, as I knew you were prompted by 
mercy,” answered the driver. 

They went in to dinner. The meal over, the 
genial Mr. Foster loosened the checks. The animals 
buried their muzzles in the refreshing fluid, im- 
bibing large draughts. When their thirst was 
appeased, the reins were adjusted, the passengers 
climbed to their seats, and the coach moved along. 

They were passing through the rich mining sec- 
tion of Russian Creek, which yielded a vast amount 
of shining gold. Ever and anon a cabin was seen, the 
home of some industrious miner striving to increase 
the circulating medium. “We are verging on the 
home stretch, and in a short time will arrive at 
Sawyers Bar. I believe it is time to decorate,” said 
the driver, as he brought the team to a standstill. 
From under the seat he produced four American 
flags, and fastened one in each head stall of the 
bridle, behind the horses' ears. 


23 


Miss Wilton looked in amazement. ''Mr. Foster, 
I am curious to know what is the occasion for this 
display?’’ “It is in your honor, and if I mistaKc *xv,c, 
you will see further evidence when we reach the 
town,” he made answer. Regaining his seat once 
more, they moved along, and after an interval swung 
around a bend and came in sight of the principal 
street which was a moving mass of humanity. 


24 


CHAPTER II 


An Important Event at Sawyers Bar — 
Arrival of Miss Wilton, the New 
Teacher. 

Mr. Foley Relates Some Interesting 
Anecdotes and Wins the Admiration 
OF Miss Wilton. 

I N retrospect let me take the reader to the opening- 
chapter of this narrative, when the good people 
were patiently awaiting the arrival of this par- 
ticular mail coach. 

As the pace of the team slackened, Mr. Davis 
said: ‘"Miss Wilton, no doubt you wonder at this 
assemblage. They were apprised of your coming. 
As you are the first lady to engage to teach this 
school, they have turned out to pay you homage; 
in brief, they are going to give you an ovation and 
welcome. Do not be surprised at what you see or 
hear.’" 

The coach came to a halt in front of the Post 
Office, and the journey was at an end. Mr. Davis 
assisted the lady to alight. A tall, dignified gentle- 
man stepped forward and was introduced to Miss 
Wilton as Judge Barnes, who looks after the peace 
and law of our town.^^ Hat in hand, with a bow 
that would have done credit to a Chesterfield, His 


25 


Honor exclaimed: “I am delighted to make your 
acquaintance, Miss Wilton. I am delegated by the 
citizens of Sawyers Bar to extend to you a cordial 
welcome and the entire freedom of our burg. We 
hope your stay among us will be both pleasant and 
profitable. Now allow me to present to you my 
friend, Mr. Foley, who is the pride of Salmon, as 
a story teller he is without a peer, as a reconnois- 
seur he knocks the persimmon.” 

“Miss Wilton, I feel highly honored by being in- 
troduced to you. I trust we may become friends. 
The judge has given me a flattering reputation, but 
I beseech you not to take him seriously. He is from 
Missouri, the 'show me’ State. I voice his senti- 
ments in greeting you. The public, irrespective of 
nationality, creed or politics, welcomes you,” spoke 
Mr. Foley. 

“Ladies and gentlemen : I did not anticipate such 
an exhibition of good feeling on the part of the 
inhabitants of your town. I feel grateful and deeply 
moved by your kind expressions. It will be no fault 
of mine if we do not become friends,” replied Miss 
Wilton. 

Other introductions followed. Men, women and 
children were desirous of meeting the new school 
ma’am. The ubiquitous small boy was in evidence. 
One kept edging and pushing his way to the front, 
saying: “Let me look at the teacher.” The lady 
heard, and went to meet him. “This is Willie Cole, 
who will be one of your pupils,” said Mr. Davis. 
She took Willie by the hand and asked: “Willie, 


26 


how old are you?’’ ‘*I was seven years old last 
birthday.” ^‘Do you go to school every day?” 
“Yes, Miss. Will you let us play marbles for 
keeps?” “I will let you play marbles, but the keeps 
proposition we will talk over later on.” She picked 
Willie up, imprinted a kiss on his lips, then set him 
down. The people broke into a ringing cheer; this 
act had captivated the crowd. 

“No high-toned airs about her. She ain’t afraid 
to kiss a kid,” said Claw Hammer Jack. “Fellow 
citizens: Miss Wilton has traveled a long way and 
is tired ; you will all meet her again, so please excuse 
her for the present.” 

Mr. Davis and the lady took their way to the 
hotel, where accommodations were secured for Miss 
Wilton. He bade her good night and went to his 
store. 

He was soon the center of a group who called to 
pay their respects. “Mr. Davis, you deserve a 
premium for having secured such a beautiful young 
lady,” exclaimed several. “She is as good as she is 
pretty,” answered the merchant. 

The following day he called at the hotel, met the 
lady and expressed a wish that she was rested. 
“Yes, I enjoyed a refreshing sleep.” “I presume 
you would like to visit the school house?” he ques- 
tioned. “Nothing would please me more,” came the 
reply. 

The building was situated upon a slight elevation 
surrounded by a flat. It was quiet and an ideal spot 
for a school. A walk of ten minutes brought them 


27 


♦ 

to the house. Mr. Davis produced the key, unlocked 
the door, and they entered. It was a commodious 
structure. As the lady took in the furnishing and 
appointments of the room, she was surprised and 
pleased. had not thought your school house was 
so modern and up to date. Everything is nicely 
arranged. It is a credit to your citizens.” She 
mentioned some changes she would like to have 
done. ^‘Any repairs you may suggest will be 
promptly attended to. Mr. Foley is a carpenter and 
handy man. I will instruct him and if you care to 
come, you can oversee the work,” said Mr. Davis. 
“I will do so with pleasure.” They looked over the 
appurtenant buildings ; all seemed in good condition. 

‘T have in view a home for you, so let us retrace 
our steps. The lady is a fine woman, a particular 
friend of mine. She is married and has a little 
daughter, who attends school. Her husband is em- 
ployed at a mine. He is home once in two weeks 
for a day. She would like to have you for 
company.” 

They came abreast of a house with a yard where 
flowers grew in profusion. '‘This is the place,” 
spoke the merchant. They rang the bell and were 
admitted by a lady. “Why, how do you do, Mr. 
Davis. I am so glad to see you back again.” He 
acknowledged the salutation. “Mrs. Fremont, this 
is Miss Wilton, our new teacher. I have brought 
her to you for board and rooms ; provide for her if 
you can.” “Certainly,” said Mrs. Fremont, “I am 
rather lonesome, and pleased you came to me. Let 

28 


me show you through the house, you may select 
any room that suits.” Miss Wilton was not difficult 
to please, and soon picked one she preferred. “It 
did not take us long to make a bargain,” spoke Mrs. 
Fremont. “As you have found a domicile, I will 
have your trunk and satchel sent up from the hotel. 
If you require anything for the school, order it and 
have the bill sent to me. Honor the store with your 
presence sometimes. Now, farewell,” said the 
merchant. 

Katie, Mrs. Fremont’s daughter, came and made 
friends with the teacher, and volunteered much in- 
formation as to the past history of the school. 

The next day was the Sabbath. Miss Wilton 
quietly observed it. Monday a watch was kept, 
when Mr. Foley was seen coming. She hailed him, 
“I will accompany you.” He doffed his hat, ex- 
claiming : “It would be an honor to have so beauti- 
ful a companion.” Little Katie, having asked 
permission, was permitted to go along. 

“Mr. Davis told me you were to command, I was 
to execute,” said Mr. Foley. 

“I would like to have the desks, benches and 
woodwork painted, and arranged differently; also 
the floor scrubbed,” spoke the lady. 

“I have the material and will begin at once,” 
he made answer. When he had a hearer, Mr. ‘Foley 
was talkative. Like an engine, he must have an 
exhaust. “You are familiar with ancient history?” 
he enquired. 


29 


“I have read it thoroughly,” replied the lady. 

“Looked at from my standpoint, there are some 
inconsistencies in it. Take, for example the tale of 
Romulus and Remus. In Rome, its rise and fall 
is told that Rhea Sylvia, a vestal, was the mother 
of twins. The cruel king Amulius ordered the chil- 
dren to be thrown into the Tiber. It so happened 
that the river had overflowed its banks, and the 
cradle in which the children were borne was finally 
left on dry ground by the retiring flood. Attracted 
by the cries of the children, a she wolf directed her 
course to them and with the greatest tenderness 
fondled and nursed them. There ip the cave of the 
wolf, a shepherd found them and carried them home 
to his wife to be reared with his own children. They 
afterward built a city on the spot where they had 
been exposed and rescued. They quarreled over 
who should name the city, and Romulus slew 
Remus. The city was named Rome after the sur- 
vivor. My deduction is, that the story is not 
entitled to credence. Knowing the nature of wild 
beasts in general and the wolf in particular, is it not 
more rational to say the wolf, a ravenous, carnivor- 
ous animal, was very hungry. She was roaming 
around the country in quest of food to appease her 
appetite, when she heard the cries and spied the 
cradle with the children in it. She smacked her 
jaws, licked her chops, smiled to herself, and 
thought of the Scriptural saying: ‘The Lord tem- 
pers the wind to the shorn lamb.' Here is my dinner 
provided for me. She walked up to the cradle and 

30 


immediately proceeded to do business with the 
twins. After awhile they laid down together, but 
the wolf was on the outside ; this is my version. 
When a boy of fourteen years of age, I lived in a 
city. In this city was a large negro population and 
a school was provided exclusively for the colored 
children. This building was located three blocks 
from the Caucasian structure. The white boys en- 
tertained a race prejudice. The negroes believed in 
reciprocity ; the result was that when the boys of 
different color met, there was a fight. Our teacher 
admonished us not to fight or quarrel with them, 
but the advice >/as not heeded. I had built a four- 
wheeled wagon and made it substantial, so it would 
bear my weight. I had equipped it with a long rope 
and induced eight of the boys to act as horses and 
haul me anywhere I wanted to go. One day, at 
recess, I told my horses we would visit the negroes. 
Their recess took place the same time as ours. 
They were at play when we put in an appearance. 
Abusive epithets were exchanged and a pitched 
battle ensued. We came off victorious. The 
negroes sought refuge in their house. We should 
have withdrawn then, but they defied us, consider- 
ing themselves secure in the retreat. We threw 
a volley of stones, and broke a number of panes of 
glass. A white lady came out and gave us a 
reprimand, so we hurried back to our play ground. 
The bell soon rang to call us in. We had scarcely 
taken our seats when a rap was heard, and the lady 
teacher of the colored school entered. She engaged 

31 


our teacher in conversation ; they walked around 
the room, and she identified all of us who had par- 
ticipated in the fight; then she left. Our teacher 
called us up to an open space in front of his desk 
and addressed us as follows: ‘You boys are guilty 
of a serious offense. You were the aggressors in a 
combat with the colored children on their play 
ground, where you had no right to go. You were 
not content with whipping them, but broke the win- 
dows in the house.’ Calling each boy by name, he 
enquired what part he took in the performance. ‘I 
was a horse, and obeyed orders,’ answered the first 
boy. ‘Very well, you may take your seat.’ The 
second boy replied : ‘I was a horse, too,’ and so on, 
until the whole eight were excused. Turning to me, 
the teacher said: ‘It is a principle of law that a 
driver is responsible for the good conduct of his 
team, and liable for any damage they may do. As 
driver, you will have to take the punishment for the 
eight horses.’ The master was armed with a raw- 
hide whip. The first round opened with him 
confident and me wary. He made a pass with the 
whip, which I side-stepped. He landed several tell- 
ing blows across my back. The round closed in 
his favor, the odds were on his side. Rounds two 
and three were a repetition of the first. My splendid 
foot-work stood me in good hand. I dodged some 
vicious swings. Occasionally he struck me across 
the legs. I thought a foul had been committed, but 
as he was Referee, Principal and Time-Keeper, I 
knew it was useless to appeal from his decision. 

32 


Round four, and last, was a hummer. He made a 
straight drive from the shoulder, and caught me 
squarely on the back. I went down and took the 
full count. I looked vainly around to see if anyone 
had thrown up the sponge. Alas! my horses had 
deserted me in my tribulation. They grinned at me. 

“ ‘Now promise me you will not molest those 
colored children again, and we will call this affair 
off,’ said the pedagogue, as he helped me to an erect 
position. I would have promised anything. I dis- 
posed of the little wagon, and henceforth Edward 
was no more driver. My good mother applied 
vaseline to my back and legs that evening and was 
quite indignant. I have since thought the Master’s 
interpretation of the law, in my case, was biased.” 

Miss Wilton looked at her watch, and announced 
that it was time for lunch, and an adjournment was 
taken. 

After dinner Mr. Foley was up and a coming. “An 
incident of my boyhood days that is indelibly 
printed on my memory and caused my faith to be 
shaken is this : I was a sort of gullible youth, and 
believed everything I read to be true. I perused the 
story of George Washington and his little hatchet. 
I was very favorably impressed. I was particularly 
so with the truthful manner of George junior, and 
the magnanimous course of Mr. Washington. I 
pondered over the narrative and determined to put 
it to a practical test. Some time previous my father 
had bought me a light ax to chop wood and kindling. 
One day when the spirit moved me I seized the ax, 

33 


went out into the orchard and began work on an 
apple tree. These trees were of a fine variety. In 
a short time I had the satisfaction of seeing the 
tree fall full length upon the ground. The noise of 
its falling brought my mother to the scene. *Oh, 
Edward, what have you done? Your father will be 
furious. He will give you the worst flogging you 
ever had.’ T guess not, mother,’ I said in an exultant 
spirit, Vhen I tell him the truth he will treat me 
as Mr. Washington did young George.’ Tf he did, 
you would go out tomorrow and chop down another. 
But I feel he will teach you a lesson you will not 
soon forget.’ 

“Father had gone to town. I was still out in the 
orchard, ax in hand, trimming off the branches of 
the tree when he returned and sized up the situa- 
tion. He thundered out: 'Who cut down one of 
my best apple trees?’ I dropped the ax and pre- 
pared to rush into his arms. ' I did, father, I cannot 
tell a lie. I cut it with my little ax.’ Here is where 
I expected him to say: ‘My noble boy, come to my 
arms. I would rather loose a dozen trees than have 
you tell an untruth.’ But the unexpected took place. 
He seized me by the collar with one hand, with the 
other he grabbed a branch of the tree. ‘You dared 
cut down my apple tree ! I have important business 
with you.’ Yes, there was something doing for 
the next few minutes. It was an improvised circus. 
My cries for mercy brought my dear mother to the 
rescue. She interceded for me, and brought the 
performance to a close. My belief in fiction was 
shattered. 


34 


‘'There resided in an adjoining State a school- 
mate of my mother’s. This lady was engaged in 
raising fine blooded poultry. She carefully packed 
and shipped to mother twenty-four eggs. Two 
hens were set on these eggs, and in time twenty- 
three young chickens were hatched. These grew 
to maturity. They were the pride of my parents 
and the envy of the neighbors, who sought to 
purchase some of the fowls, or their eggs, but to 
no avail, for father steadfastly refused to part with 
them. He seemed to enjoy having a monopoly of 
that breed. Exorbitant prices were offered, but de* 
dined. I met a neighbor who said to me : ‘Edward, 
I will pay you one dollar for a dozen of these eggs. 
You can get them by degrees, until you have the 
number, and your father will not be the wiser.’ I 
consented to get a dozen for him. I knew where 
there was a nest in the barn that contained ten eggs. 
I took the ten and got two more from the chicken 
house. I then went into the kitchen and put the 
eggs into boiling water until I was satisfied they 
were hard. I took them out and went over to the 
neighbors. I gave him the eggs and he paid me 
the dollar as agreed. My conscience did not up- 
braid me. I felt that as he wanted me to deceive 
my parents there was no harm in using guile with 
him. Father knew of this nest in the barn, and 
missed the eggs. He brought me to task. ‘Edward, 
do you know what became of those eggs?’ I 
answered, ‘Yes, sir, I sold them to neighbor Jones.’ 
‘You sold my fancy eggs?’ ‘Yes, father, but I boiled 

35 


them first/ I hastened to add, for visions of the 
apple tree episode were fresh in my memory. This 
time he took me in his arms, called me ‘a bright 
boy’ and all sorts of endearing names, and finally 
he asked: 'Edward, where is the dollar?’ Reluct- 
antly the dollar and I parted company ; however, he 
gave me a dime. More than a month afterwards I 
met Neighbor Jones, who said: 'Edward, there 
was something remarkable about those eggs. I 
placed them under a hen, she sat on them four 
weeks, but never brought out a chick. I then broke 
first one, and afterwards all of them, to see what 
was the matter. They were hard inside, like boiled 
eggs.’ I said: 'I guess the hen sat on them so 
long they must have petrified.’ He looked me 
square in the face, but my countenance was child- 
like and bland. If he mistrusted, he was prudent, 
for he never referred to the eggs again, but from 
this time he never allowed me to court his 
daughter.” 

Miss Wilton had brought fancy paper of different 
colors. She had embellished the teacher’s table, 
cutting scallops in red, white and blue. 

"Mr. Foley, I have spent a very pleasant day; 
your recital of anecdotes has evoked many a hearty 
laugh from me. It is time we ceased our labor for 
the day.” 

"If I have been the means of causing the hours to 
pass quickly, I am fully repaid,” said Mr. Foley. 

By Wednesday everything in and around the 
school house was in apple-pie order. Miss Wilton, 

36 


in company with the Trustees, walked to the school 
house. The officials noted the improvements. They 
agreed "the room looked more cosy and inviting 
than ever before.' At 9 a. m. the bell rang. The 
girls and boys filed into seats. Mr. Davis stepped 
to the front and addressed them. 

"‘Girls and boys, I take pleasure in introducing 
to you Miss Wilton, who will be your teacher for 
the present term. In the past this school has been 
taught by men. We decided to change, and we 
believe the eflPect will be beneficial. With you rests 
the power to make your teacher's work easy and 
pleasant. She comes to us fresh from a field of 
experience in the city, and her ideas and methods 
are up to date. You will enjoy the advantages of 
her learning. If you do not make progress in your 
studies, the fault will be yours, not the teacher's. 
Now I am going to speak to you older boys. I am 
going to use strong language, so you will know I 
mean it. You boys have been the cause of all 
trouble in this school. Your mischief and playing 
tricks has worried all former teachers. It has got 
to cease; you must quit it. You have been sus- 
pended and taken back. During this term, if you 
are suspended or expelled by the lady, you will not 
be taken back. This school is going to be in session. 
You may attend if you behave, but you shall not 
come if you do not obey the rules. It seems to me 
you are old enough to be ashamed of your past con- 
duct. Now is the time to study and fit yourselves 


37 


for the day when you will have to leave school, go 
out into the world and make your living among 
men.” 

Miss Wilton arose. ''Girls and boys: I have 
listened to the words of praise bestowed upon me 
by Mr. Davis, and I hope to be worthy of them. It 
will be my aim to teach those qualifications that will 
make you useful women and men in life. To do 
this, I must have your respect and aid. I hope to 
gain these and retain them. If I succeed it will not 
be necessary to put into effect the drastic measures 
spoken of by Mr. Davis. That is all.” Mr. Davis 
enquired if his colleagues wished to speak. They 
answered "No.” "I declare the school formally 
opened, and we will say adieu.” 

The teacher asked the name and age of each pupil 
and enrolled them. She found there were forty-two 
scholars present. She examined them in the studies 
of the last term, and arranged them into classes. 


38 


CHAPTER III 

A Storm Is Brewing — The Village Belle 
Decides to Rid Herself of a Danger- 
ous Rival. 

Miss Wilton Confides a Secret to 
Mrs. Fremont. 

T he first week was tranquil ; things moved like 
clock work in the school. At the close of the 
week the teacher complimented the scholars 
on the excellent order they had maintained, and 
trusted it would continue. The second week was 
marked by good behavior, and the teacher expressed 
satisfaction for the two weeks’ work. She little knew 
a storm was brewing. 

Miss Jessie Bartle was the village belle, the 
acknowledged beauty of Sawyers Bar. Prior to the 
event of Miss Wilton there was none to dispute her 
title. There were young ladies in abundance, but 
the palm for good looks was conceded to Miss 
Bartle. With the coming of the handsome teacher, 
she saw herself relegated to second place. Her 
dark brunette style was eclipsed by the fairer blonde 
type, and distinguished queenly manner of the new 
lady. She was jealous of the words of admiration 
spoken in favor of Miss Wilton; it piqued her. Miss 
Bartle reasoned that if the routine at school was not 
placid, the teacher would depart, which consumma- 

39 


tion Miss Bartle devoutly wished for. She hoped 
to accomplish the discomfiture of Miss Wilton 
through the older boys. She resolved to throw 
every obstacle in the path of the teacher. Daniel 
O'Brien, or Dan, was verging on seventeen years 
of age. He was a well built, wiry lad, and one of 
the leaders in all of the pranks played at school. 
Thomas Crane, or Tommy, was an equal partner 
with Dan. What schemes one could not contrive, 
the other would conjure. In a nutshell, these two 
were the prime movers in all the tricks practiced 
on the teachers in the past. 

At the ending of the second week’s session. Miss 
Bartle made it convenient to see Dan and ask how 
he liked the lady teacher. ‘T like her fine. We all 
like her better than any man teacher we ever had,” 
said Dan. 'Xook here, Dan, are you going to have 
it said that a young lady, a mere girl, can come here 
and run this school and master you boys, when men 
have failed? Why, people will say you are smitten 
with her, and call you sissy boys. Say, Dan, if you 
will make it as unpleasant as you know how, and 
compel her to quit the school, I will give you five 
dollars.” “I had made up my mind to be good this 
term, and obey the rules. Another reason, the 
Trustees told us if we were expelled we would not 
be taken back,” said Dan. ‘'Do not be afraid. I 
have enough influence to get you back, if she does 
expel you. In my opinion she will become dis- 
gusted and resign. You will have a vacation then ; 
and think of the many things five dollars will buy 1 

40 


Fourth of July is coming and you will want some 
spending money.” Finally, by this manner of per- 
suasion, she won him to agree to do her bidding. 
She cautioned him to ^‘keep secret what had passed 
between them” and gave him a dollar to bind the 
bargain. The balance of the $5.00 was to be paid 
when the teacher gave up her position. Dan held 
a consultation with Tommy Crane. The gist of it 
was: “We must get busy, and have some fun with 
the lady teacher. Folks are beginning to josh us 
about a woman making us mind. We must show 
we are boss of this school,” spoke Danny. “All 
right, I am with you,” said Tommy. 

The initial move in disobedience came when the 
teacher asked Dan to bring a fresh bucket of water 
for drinking. “I ain’t going to pack water for the 
whole school,” was his answer. “Why, Danny, I 
intended you older boys should take turns doing 
the chores; you are more able than the smaller 
children. It’s only a small task.” “I won’t do it 
just the same,” replied Danny. “I feel sure Tommy 
will,” pleaded the lady. “No, I am like Dan. Let 
the Trustees pay some one to pack the water.” The 
other boys, taking the cue from Dan and Tom, re- 
fused to carry the bucket. 

“Boys, I am surprised at you.” Seizing the empty 
vessel, the teacher went to the well and the full 
bucket was brought to the room. The first im- 
pression created in the teacher’s mind by this 
insubordination was that the boys were trying her 
temperament, and she resolved to let the incident 

41 


pass without comment. Throughout the week Dan 
and Tommy exhibited a turbulent spirit bordering 
on open rebellion. On Friday the crisis was reached. 
A cold rain had set in the night before, making 
things damp and rendering a fire in the room 
necessary. This was the opportunity Dan had been 
waiting for. At recess, it being wet outside, the 
children remained indoors. The bell rang to take 
up school. Dan stayed in the rear. He thrust a 
hand into his pocket and with a quick motion with- 
drew it filled with cayenne pepper. This he threw 
on to the hot stove. Instantly the room was filled 
with a smoke and odor, both suffocating and 
nauseating. The pupils coughed, sneezed and 
gasped for breath. The teacher opened the doors 
and raised the windows to admit fresh air. She 
led the way to the woodshed, looking at the time. 
She saw it was after ii a. m. and told the children 
they might go home for dinner and return at i p. m. 

During this ordeal the teacher preserved a calm 
exterior. She was sensible that an artifice, the char- 
acter of which she could not fathom, had been 
played. In all her career she had never experienced 
the same as this. She never lost her equanimity or 
asked for an explanation at this time. 

On their way to lunch Katie Fremont told the 
teacher it was cayenne pepper that had been put 
on the stove. She said it was a trick practiced by 
the boys on former teachers, one of whom had 
become so indignant that he gave up the position. 

42 


At I p. m. the school convened. The lady asked : 
“Is there any girl or boy in the room that knows 
who put that pepper on the stove? I would like 
positive evidence ; that is, I want some one to speak 
who saw the pupil put the pepper on the stove.’* 
Silence reigned. “If the one will come forward, 
and say he did it, and promise not to do the like 
again, I will pardon the offense, and nothing more 
will be done about it.” No one responded to the 
invitation. “You older boys please take notice I 
am informed this is one of your favorite devices to 
cause annoyance to teachers. It was the means of 
one gentleman leaving the school. If you hope to 
accomplish this end in my case, you will find your- 
selves mistaken. I am here to stay ; you can depend 
on this. I had hoped not to enforce the law in 
regard to expelling a pupil, but I will surely expel 
any boy I can prove guilty of such mean acts. For 
two weeks your conduct was perfect, and I praised 
you to the Trustees. This week I am forced to say 
your conduct is very bad. School is dismissed for 
the week.” 

She sat at the table long after the scholars had 
gone, meditating over the events of the week. The 
first and second weeks she was happy, sanguine of 
success. Now she was despondent. The contrast 
between the weeks was extreme. She could only 
speculate what the coming week had in store. The 
poem of Josephine Pollard, recurred to her, and she 
repeated it aloud, over and over again : 


43 


No matter which way I turn, 

I always find in the book of life 
Some lessons I have to learn. 

I must take my turn at the mill, 

I must grind out the golden grain, 

I must work at my task with a resolute 
will. 

Over and over again. 

We cannot measure the need. 

Of even the tiniest flower. 

Nor check the flow of the golden sands. 
That run through a single hour. 

But the morning dews must fall. 

And the sun and the summer rain 
Must do their part and perform it all. 
Over and over again. 

Over and over again. 

The brook through the meadows flows, 

And over and over again 

The ponderous mill wheel goes. 

Once doing will not suffice. 

Though doing be not in vain. 

And a blessing failing us once or twice, 
May come if we try again. 

The path that has once been trod 
Is never so rough to the feet. 

And the lesson we once have learned 
Is never so hard to repeat. 


44 


Though sorrowful tears must fall, 

And the heart to its depths be driven 
With storm and tempest, we need them all 
To render us meet for Heaven. 

All alone, she indulged in a cry. Her pent up 
emotions could no longer be controlled. Tears were 
falling copiously. She had heard the adage '‘That 
misfortunes never come singly.” It seemed to her 
the maxim was verified in her instance. She felt 
relieved after this outburst had subsided. She 
breathed a prayer to God to direct her in the right 
course to pursue, locked the school house, and went 
to her room at Mrs. Fremont’s. This lady was out- 
spoken in her denunciation of the boys when she 
learned what had transpired. Of Miss Wilton she 
asked: "Were you cognizant of the reputation of 
this school when you agreed to teach it? I was 
dubious of the result when I learned a lady 
was to take charge of it.” "Yes, I was 
made acquainted with the worst features. I 
took the school with my eyes open. I wanted a 
change. I became too conspicuous in the city where 
I resided. I will make a confidant of you, Mrs. 
Fremont. Your question "if I was cognizant of 
the reputation of the school when I engaged to 
teach it” implies that a curiosity exists in your mind 
why I took the school if I was familiar with its bad 
qualities. Your question is natural. It seems 
strange that a young lady who has been reared and 
lived all her life in the city should suddenly sever 

45 


the ties with those she loves dearly and seek a 
home among strangers. I will elucidate: I was 
born and reared in the city of Oakland. My dear 
mother died when I was only four years of age. 
Being of such tender years, I have only a faint 
recollection of her. My mother had a married sister, 
Mrs. Page. In accordance with mother’s last re- 
quest, I was placed with my aunt. She was not 
blessed with any children of her own, so lavished 
on me all her love. I was tenderly and carefully 
brought up. I was sent to the best schools. The 
educational facilities afforded in the city of Oakland 
and its environments are the best in the State, arid 
equal any in the United States in my opinion. Mr. 
Page owned a large fruit orchard. He was bounti- 
fully supplied with this world’s goods, and furnished 
his home with a lavish hand. My aunt was not a 
society woman in the strict sense of the word. She 
had her friends who visited at regular intervals, 
and partook of her hospitality. She returned their 
calls, but she did not give grand receptions or enter- 
tain any large assemblages. I accompanied her 
wherever she went. She was a Christian and 
attended church every Sabbath. She contributed 
towards all charities. I was allowed to attend places 
of amusement with friends, or a chaperon. My aunt 
gave me motherly counsel such as every young girl 
needs, and I obeyed her implicitly. No expense was 
spared on me. I was taught all the requisites and 
accomplishments. I graduated from a Seminary 
at the age of nineteen. I was early imbued with the 


46 


idea that I ought to earn my living. Whenever I 
broached this subject, my aunt would say: “My 
dear girl, you know Mr. Page and I have no 
children; in the natural course of events we are 
bound to die; you are our nearest kin and will be 
our heir. All we possess will be yours. There is 
ample to maintain you in a life of luxury and ease ; 
there is no necessity for you to toil.’’ “I am aware 
of this, aunty. It is that I prefer an active to a 
passive life. I like the pecuniary consideration 
attached to labor. There is in my composition or 
nature what men call push or go aheadativeness. I 
cannot endure an indolent existence. Work is what 
I require, both mental and physical. I have admired 
teaching as a profession and will fit myself for that 
calling.” I gradually overcame her antipathy and 
she consented. One day I presented myself to the 
Board of Examiners, passed a creditable inquiry 
and was presented with a First Grade Certificate. 
A vacancy occurred shortly and I entered upon the 
routine of a full fledged teacher. Up to this period 
I was heart whole and fancy free. No event had 
taken place to impress my life. It was perfectly 
serene. I was a devotee of pedestrianism and 
walked to and from my school. Shakespeare says : 
“There is a tide in the affairs of every man which 
taken at the flood leads on to fortune.” So circum- 
stances over which one has no crontrol will change 
the whole course of your career. One day whilst 
returning from school, I had to cross one of the 
principal thoroughfares. I was half way over when 

47 


I heard shouting and loud cries of warning. I 
looked in the direction and saw an automobile with 
a man in it bearing down upon me. I was directly 
in line with the course of the machine. I seemed 
unable to realize my situation. I tried to move, but 
my limbs seemed paralyzed. My brain was con- 
fused. I was rooted to the spot. The yells and 
cries increased, but to no purpose ; I was powerless 
to act. I seemed doomed to certain death. I hastily 
reviewed the past. Life was very dear to me. I 
was young and everybody was good and kind to 
me. I took one last look at the machine. The 
chauffeur was gesticulating and working at the 
lever; it seemed about to run me down and crush 
me; I closed my eyes and waited for the end. 
Suddenly I felt myself lifted bodily; then I lost 
consciousness; I presume I did what every woman 
under the same circumstances would have done, I 
fainted. When I revived and regained my senses, I 
was lying on a couch in a drug store with the 
proprietor holding a bottle of spirits of camphor to 
my nostrils. 

“ ‘You are all right now,’ said he. ‘You have had 
a miraculous escape. You owe your life to a gentle- 
man by the name of Mr. Howard, cashier of the 
Corn and Exchange Bank. I was a spectator to the 
rescue. People were trying to warn you of the 
danger, but you were dazed and unable to help your- 
self. I thought no power on earth could save you, 
when a man made what looked like a flying leap, 
seized you in his arms and sprang to one side. There 

48 


was very little margin between your rescuer and 
the automobile, but that little was enough, for the 
machine passed you unscathed. You were carried 
in here ; I did not deem it necessary to call a doctor, 
I saw you were uninjured and had only swooned. 
Mr. Howard left when assured you would soon re- 
cover. He requested that no mention be made of 
his part in saving you ; he was modest and wished 
to disclaim any credit for what he had done. I told 
him it was impossible to conceal the truth and his 
courageous action. Mr. Howard is a hero. He 
risked his life and should be decorated with a 
medal.^ 

“He proffered to call a hack, but I declined, feeling 
able to walk. I was profuse in my thanks and 
offered to pay him for his care, but he positively re- 
fused to accept any compensation. My impulse 
was to inquire as to the personal appearance of my 
savior, but modesty forbade it. I was always punc- 
tual in arriving at home, but this day I was late. 
My aunt was anxiously awaiting me. I hastily re- 
lated my adventure. She became nervous and 
hysterical, but when assured I was uninjured re- 
gained her composure. The newspapers contained 
a graphic account of the incident. In glaring head- 
lines they told of the hairbreadth escape and daring 
rescue. They displayed a portrait of Mr. Howard, 
whom they lauded and called a hero. They also 
gave a nice description of the handsome young 
school ma’am, as they called her. They made quite 
a column of it. Before retiring that night I offered 

49 


up a prayer for my safe deliverance and for my 
rescuer. Next morning the first thing I did was 
to indite a note to Mr. Howard expressing my 
gratitude and inviting him to call upon me. When 
I reached the school house I received an ovation. 
The teachers and scholars from the other depart- 
ments had assembled. They surrounded me and 
vied with each other in congratulating me. They 
extolled Mr. Howard. I was touched with their ex- 
hibition of affection and interest in my welfare. On 
looking over the account published in the papers, 
I learned that through a defect in the working of 
the machinery, the automobile would not respond 
to the touch of the chauffeur and had gotten beyond 
his control; in fact, it was running away at the 
rate of thirty miles per hour. He succeeded in 
bringing it to a stop after going some five miles 
without any accident. On my way home that 
afternoon I took a circuitous route and when com- 
pelled to cross a street I gazed in all directions to 
see no runaway automobile was in sight. I was 
timid, for my experience had made a deep impres- 
sion on me, but such an accident might not occur 
again in one's life-time. I reached home safely. It 
was the custom at our house to dine at 5 p. m. 
Mr. Page was always punctual. I had arrayed 
myself in one of my most becoming gowns and 
taken more than usual pains in arranging my toilet. 
I had a presentiment that there might be company. 
I entered the drawing room to await the announce- 
ment of dinner, and perceived Mr. Page in conver- 
se 


sation with a gentleman. They arose and came to 
meet me. Mr. Page said: 'Miss Wilton, permit 
me to introduce to you Mr. Frank Howard. Mr. 
Howard, my niece.' With a mischievous smile, he 
added: 'You have met before, but were not ac- 
quainted, I believe.' I extended my hand and re- 
member saying: 'When we met yesterday there 
was no time for formalities, decisive action was 
required and Mr. Howard rose to the occasion. You 
have placed me under lasting obligations to you. 
Mere words seem inadequate to convey my grati- 
tude; you saved my life.' He replied: 'Miss Wil- 
ton, it affords me the greatest pleasure to make 
your acquaintance, and to meet you under more 
auspicious circumstances. What I did to save your 
life I would have done for any human being. Those 
spectators must have considered there was no hope, 
or they would have put forth an effort ki your be- 
half. I had no time to consider the personal risk. 
I saw there was a chance; I took that chance; you 
know the rest. Now I have a request to make of 
you, that is, not to allude to the part I played in 
your fortunate escape. The papers have more than 
done justice to the happening. I dislike adulation. 
I trust our meeting will ripen into friendship and 
that I may be allowed to call upon you at proper 
intervals.' I answered : 'I will respect your wishes 
not to mention the subject in your presence; I will 
not promise to forget it, for I never can.' With this 
the accident was dismissed* 


51 


‘‘Mr. Howard was a man of commanding presence. 
He was five feet eleven inches in height and 
weighed 185 pounds. He had dark curly hair, large 
blue eyes, a dark moustache. His age was twenty- 
eight years. In an assemblage he would attract 
attention. He was a man to win the affection of 
a young woman. Yes, it was a case of love at first 
sight. I had heretofore ridiculed the idea of people 
being smitten with tender passion at their first 
glimpse of one another; I held to the opinion that 
love was something that must gradually develop ; it 
must be acquired and cultivated; but I awoke to 
the conviction that my long cherished ideas had 
been obliterated, swept aside; I was conscious of a 
nobler, tenderer regard for Mr. Howard than I 
thought any living man could arouse in me. Like 
all young ladies, at times I had my day dreams. I 
expected to marry, when I should encounter a para- 
gon. The thought of being an old maid was repug- 
nant to me. Men of different nationalities and 
professions I had met in society ; some were eminent 
in their chosen calling and evoked my respect for 
their learning, nothing more. Aside from the affec- 
tion I felt for my aunt and uncle, nothing akin to 
love had entered my brain. 

“Mr. Howard escorted me to dinner. During the 
progress of the meal diverse subjects were dis- 
cussed. I found him to be well versed in the arts, 
sciences, literature, and a brilliant conversationalist. 
I will not weary you with an account of our court- 
ship; let it suffice to say that in six months from 

52 


our first meeting, Mr. Howard and I became en- 
gaged. Betrothed lovers ; when two of the opposite 
sex are in love with each other, it does not take 
them long to discover the fact. You do not care to 
listen to an account of tender love messages, nor do 
I deem it prudent to confide them to you. I believe 
there are tender scenes transpire between affianced 
lovers that should be regarded as sacred and never 
divulged. My engagement to Mr. Howard had the 
hearty approval of my aunt and uncle. They had 
noted the course of events, so were not surprised 
at the denouement. The date of our wedding had 
been fixed; it was to be the anniversary of my 
rescue. I had resigned my position of teacher. I 
had formulated plans for the future and had begun 
preparations for my bridal trousseau. I seemed to 
dwell in a realm of ethereal bliss. I could neither 
ask nor wish for anything to complete my happi- 
ness; every cloud had a silver lining. My cup of 
joy seemed full. I was going to wed a man who 
was good, noble, honorable, the acme of perfection. 
I was in this superlative degree of ecstasy when 
the cruel intervention of fate indefinitely postponed 
all our cherished plans of marriage. It was a most 
cruel blow, and it was some time before I realized 
its full import. 

At home Mr. Page was of a jovial temperament, 
telling some humorous story or cracking jokes. On 
this particular evening, instead of a smile he wore 
a dejected look, and acted as though something 
worried him. I noticed the change and questioned 

53 


him. He replied evasively; said he ‘was not feeling 
well, a slight bilious attack, would go and lie down/ 
Presently my aunt came to me and said : ‘My dear 
child this was her favorite way of addressing me ; 
‘I have some unpleasant news to communicate, and 
I feel it my duty to let you know at once. The Corn 
and Exchange Bank is missing forty thousand 
dollars. The money was entrusted to the care and 
keeping of your affianced, Mr. Howard, some two 
days ago. Since then no trace of it can be found. 
There are some disagreeable rumors in circulation 
regarding its disappearance. This is what has dis- 
tressed your uncle. He was averse to breaking the 
news to you. He does not for one moment believe 
that Mr. Howard is guilty of any wrong doing, but 
he says there are some ugly stories being told 
among the business men and current upon the 
streets. One is that the Directors of the Bank have 
had a meeting, and after investigating the facts have 
asked for the resignation of Mr. Howard; another 
report is that he has tendered his resignation, but 
the Directors have refused to accept it, and will 
institute legal proceedings against him. This is 
the substance of what your uncle heard in the city.* 
“During this recital I remained mute. I can 
barely describe my emotions. I never doubted 
Frank’s innocence. The uppermost thought in my 
mind was that a great mistake had been made; 
that the money had been secreted in some nook 
or corner which was overlooked in the excitement 
of its disappearance ; that a calmer, more systematic 

54 


search would reveal its hiding place. I took this 
cheerful aspect, but as I reviewed the matter, 
an unpleasant side would suggest itself. What if 
the money actually had been stolen? Although in 
no manner connected with the robbery, what if the 
bank officials held Frank responsible for its loss and 
would begin a criminal suit to prosecute, him? As 
this phase of the situation would obtrude, I became 
melancholy. Was our wedding to be deferred? I 
had nearly completed my arrangements. The date 
was distant only two months. Must all my hopes 
and aspirations go for naught? Had some blight 
fallen across my life? 

'T am naturally of an optimistic disposition and 
look upon the bright side. I would await the 
coming of Frank, who I felt would explain every- 
thing satisfactorily. Since our engagement it was 
Frank^s practice to visit me regularly three times 
a week. Seldom did more than two days pass with- 
out my seeing him. Three days had now elapsed 
since he called. I attributed his absence to the in- 
formation I had received. I pictured him as striving 
with energy to unearth and bring to light the miss- 
ing money. I could see his face wreathed in smiles 
as he came to tell me the lost had been found; of 
how worried he had been ; how he had worked over- 
time; ransacked every part of the building, and 
finally when he had nearly despaired of finding it, 
discovered the money stowed away in a forgotten 
niche; how he exclaimed: *May, I am the happiest 
man on earth ; congratulate me on the lucky escape 


55 


from this dilemma/ I conjured this in my mind. 
Alas! no such happy consummation was to be. It 
was a castle in the air, a bubble; it burst, and the 
consequence I am reaping now. This is the reason 
why I left my dear aunt and uncle, home and 
friends and ostracised myself from society. It is 
why I accepted the position of teacher of your 
school. My betrothed, my hero is innocent, but 
circumstances are against him.*^ 

Her voice became tremulous. Her whole frame 
was visibly affected. Tears coursed down her 
cheeks. It was some time before she stifled her 
grief and regained her composure. 

“I think you had better continue the history to 
some more propitious time. The hour is late, and 
you are unnerved,” remarked Mrs. Fremont. ‘'The 
intimation is timely ; I will adopt it,” answered Miss 
Wilton. 


56 


CHAPTER IV 


Mr. Foley Receives a Number of Visitors 
TO Whom He Relates Some Exciting 
Experiences as Marksman and 
Hunter. 

S UNDAY morning: the teacher arose early; having: 
breakfasted, she set out for a stroll; Katie was her 
companion. The two were inseparable. Katie 
evinced a love for the teacher only exceeded by that 
she bore for her mother. As yet Miss Wilton had 
not visited the suburbs of Sawyers Bar. She had 
a desire to become familiar with the outlying dis- 
tricts. Nearly a mile had been traversed when they 
came to a house which stood in proximity to the 
highway. ^‘That,'^ said Katie, ''is Mr. Foley’s 
cabin.” The door was open ; the owner appeared in 
the aperture. "Good morning, Miss Wilton, won’t 
you come in and be rested for awhile,” was Mr. 
Foley’s salutation. She had a curiosity to inspect 
the interior of a miner’s home, so accepted the in- 
vitation. Mr. Foley was preparing his breakfast, 
which consisted of coffee, fried bacon and flap-jacks. 
He poured some grease into a frying pan, put some 
batter in and set the pan on top of some hot coals. 
When the cake was cooked on the bottom he would 
seize the handle of the pan, give the cake an impetus 

57 


that would cause it to shoot up, turn over, and land 
batter side down squarely in the pan, ready to be 
cooked on the under side. The teacher watched this 
dexterous tossing of the cakes and it amused her. 
She said : “Mr. Foley, you are an adept at turning 
those cakes.” “Yes, it is done by a simple turn of 
the wrist. Some times by way of diversion, I toss 
them up the chimney and then go outside and catch 
them as they come down in the pan. I never miss 
one.” “I would like to see you perform that feat 
now,” said the lady. “I perceive there is quite a 
breeze blowing. Any wind would have a tendency 
to deflect the flap-jack from the pan,” said Mr. 
Foley, with a smile. 

The cabin was a log structure fourteen feet in 
length by twelve feet wide. It was a parlor, bed- 
room, dining room and kitchen, all in one room. In 
one end was a fireplace, constructed of rock and 
mortar; it extended from the floor to the apex of 
the roof; it gradually tapered upward to insure a 
good draught. It would easily hold a four foot 
stick of wood. “That is a large chimney,” observed 
the lady. “Yes, it’s a fair size, but nothing to com- 
pare with what we used to have back in Missouri. 
Some of the houses were built a hundred feet square. 
One end was made portable, hung on hinges. We 
would hitch three or four yoke of oxen to a large 
tree, take out the end of the house, haul the tree and 
put it in the fireplace. It would burn and keep a fire 
for a month. Never been in Missouri, Miss Wil- 
ton? Well, it’s a great place; by courtesy it is 

58 


called a State, but it is really a foreign possession. 
The United States exercises a sort of protectorate 
over it. I have seen young men and girls come into 
town from the country farms barefooted, with a big 
wad of gum in their mouths. I recall one couple. 
They were evidently lovers, for they were very 
sweet on one another. Passing a confectionary 
store, where was displayed in a window some new 
made ginger bread — if there is anything in the eat- 
ing line that will make a Missourian’s mouth water 
it is ginger bread — ^the young fellow entered the 
store and came out with a large slice in his hand, 
on which he was munching away. The girl looked 
at the ginger bread in a wishful manner. He turned 
to her and said, Tt’s lapping good truck, Sal, you 
had best buy yourself a hunk.’ ” 

Several neighbors had quietly dropped in. They 
saw Foley was in his element and wished to hear 
him. The teacher had been listening attentively; 
at the same time she was surveying the furnishings 
of the cabin. One end contained a bunk and bed. 
Over the bed, where it could be reached handily, 
was a Winchester rifle, held in place by deer horns. 
On the wall v/as stretched full length a California 
lion’s hide. On the floor, by the side of the bed, 
was spread a black bear hide, which served as a 
rug. Pointing to the bear and lion hides the lady 
said, 'T presume those are trophies of your prowess 
as a hunter, Mr. Foley.” ‘Wes, I used to be great 
in the pursuit and killing of wild game; I was a 
crack shot. In fact, I was never beaten but once 


59 


in my life. It was this way: My fame as a dead 
shot was known both far and near ; whenever a man 
asserted he was the best marksman in any par- 
ticular State, some friend of mine was close by 
and would lay a wager I could defeat him. A day 
was named when he would meet me and the match 
was pulled off. I invariably won. I never kept an 
account of my winnings, but I won thousands of 
dollars. A man came along one day and accosted 
me. 'Are you Mr. Foley?’ I answered, 'Yes.’ 
'Well, I have heard of your skill ; I have traveled a 
thousand miles to challenge you to a shooting con- 
test.’ 'I am your huckleberry, when do you want 
to try conclusions?’ I asked. 'Tomorrow,’ said the 
stranger. 'Very good, I will be on hand,’ I replied. 

"The next day a large crowd was present to wit- 
ness the shooting. The stranger inquired if I was 
particular where the match was held. I said 'No, 
any old place will suit me.’ The place he selected 
to put the target was a hillside. The guns were 
muzzle loading rifles; magazine guns had recently 
come on the market and we were wary of them. 
The distance was one hundred yards. We tossed 
up a coin to see who should have first shot. The 
stranger won. He fired and hit the target two inch- 
es to the right of the center. It was my turn. I 
took aim, blazed away and made a bull’s eye. The 
bet was five hundred dollars a side. The stranger 
now proposed we increase the distance to two hun- 
dred yards and double the wager, or $1000 a side. 
I agreed. This time I won the choice of first trial. 


60 


I fired and once more made a bull’s eye. My second 
bullet followed the course of the first one identically, 
only it enlarged the hole enough so there was no 
show for a dispute. The stranger tried and came 
within an inch of the center, but lost of course. He 
said my shooting Vas great, marvelous.’ He 
viewed the distance to the summit of the hill and 
computed it to be about 300 yards. He argued that 
‘he was better at a still longer distance, and if I 
would agree to placing the target fifty feet down 
on the other side of the summit he would bet all the 
money he had left.’ I was elated with my victory 
in the two previous trials and figured my chance as 
good as his, so consented. In case neither of us hit 
the target the first time we were to continue shoot- 
ing until one did. The stranger had $3000. He 
planked it down and I covered it. Now the situa- 
tion was this : the target was down 50 feet from the 
top and not visible to either of us. In my mind it 
was a matter of guess work. I won the first effort ; 
aimed for the top of the ride, and let her go. I 
missed the mark slick and clean. We had two men 
stationed on the ridge to note the effect.. It was 
the stranger’s turn. He was very methodical in 
his preparations. From his pocket he brought forth 
a small pair of scales. He poured out some pow- 
der, carefully weighed it until there was just a cer- 
tain amount, then let it flow into the gun. Next he 
took a piece of patching, greased and weighed this, 
and put it in the muzzle ; lastly he selected a bullet, 
weighed it and rammed it down. He now brought 

61 


forth a peculiar shaped cap, placed it on the tube of 
the gun and said he was ready. I took notice he 
raised his rifle to an angle of about 33 degrees. At 
the report of his gun there came a ^hello’ from the 
two men, ‘he has made a bull’s eye.’ I supposed it 
was all conjecture to hit that target; not so the 
stranger. He had calculated the distance to a 
nicety. He had put just enough powder in his gun 
to carry the bullet over the top, from there the at- 
traction of gravitation had carried the bullet down 
to the target with enough force to indent it. It was 
the most scientific shooting I ever saw. I learned 
afterwards he was an expert at this style of mark- 
manship. I bantered him to shoot once more, but 
to put the target where we could see it. He gave 
me the horse laugh. He had $1500 to the good, but 
it broke me of sucking eggs. The wearer of that 
hide you see gave me the closest call to ‘shuflfling off 
this mortal coil’ I ever had. I was out hunting, 
armed with my trusty muzzle loading rifle, when I 
ran across a large black bear. He seemed to be in 
an ugly mood and hankering for a fight. He came 
towards me with an ominous growl. I always shot 
big game back of the fore shoulder; one shot gen- 
erally sufficed to put a quietus on them. I fired, 
but in this case the bullet went further back than I 
calculated. The bear was badly wounded, but full 
of fight, for he kept coming. He was so close I 
had no time to reload my rifle. I drew my bowie 
knife, a weapon with a blade fully 12 inches in 
length, and was ready for the fray. I remember 

62 


saying a prayer, as follows : Xord help me if you 
can to kill this bear. If you cannot help me, do not 
help the bear, but just lay low, keep cool and do 
nothing, and you will witness the greatest combat 
you ever saw in your life.’ By this time the brute 
had reared up and with mouth open was on me. I 
held my rifle in my left hand. I thrust the barrel 
into his jaws to give him something to whet his 
teeth on; with the bowie in my right hand I pro- 
ceeded to transact business with his abdomen. He 
soon tired of chewing on the gun and tried to mas- 
ticate my arm and head. I plied the knife with all 
my energy. I soon felt his teeth relax on my arm 
and I knew he was about to cash in. During this 
broil I did some ducking with my head that would 
have done credit to a professional pugilist. Several 
times he caught me a right or left swing with his 
fore paws that nearly dazed me. At length the 
bear fell lifeless at my feet. I sank down exhausted, 
and it was some time before I recovered strength 
to make my way home. My left arm was badly 
lacerated and my physiognomy somewhat dis- 
figured. You have heard that little couplet: 

“ ‘When I was young and in my prime, ^ 
I looked so fine and gay, ^ 

I had to take the dogs along 
To keep the girls away.’ 

“This applied to me before the fracas; I have 
never been the Adonis since. What I esteem as the 
most accurate shooting I ever did, and by means 

63 


of which I saved a mortal from death, took place 
when I was in New York City. A young man was 
engaged in painting the steeple of a church, I think 
it was Trinity. From the ground to where he was 
at work was two hundred and seventy feet perpen- 
dicular. A small platform had been rigged. By 
means of a block and tackle he was raised and low- 
ered. In some means, not explained, the end of the 
rope became loose, slipped through the pulley and 
the man was left upon the platform with no show 
to get down. His cries for help attracted a large 
crowd. I noticed the gathering and made haste to 
the scene. Everybody was discussing plans, even 
to procuring an airship, but none struck me as 
practicable. I told the people I would get a line 
up and get him down safe. They wished to know 
the modus operandi (that’s Latin). I told them 
to wait and see. I went to the hotel where 
I was staying, got my shotgun (faithful old 
Betsy I call her) and returned. On my way I 
called in at a store and bought a stout coil of twine. 
I measured off two hundred and eighty feet, which 
allowed ten feet surplus after reaching the top. I 
measured a quantity of powder that I deemed suffi- 
cient to force the twine up to the man. I put the 
twine in the muzzle of the gun and rammed it down 
tightly ; I placed a cap on the nipple, and was ready 
for the trial. During these preliminaries I was sur- 
rounded by an eager mass of people, debating the 
feasibility of my scheme. The majority doubted 
its success. I now called for silence and explained 

64 


to the man on top what I was about to do. I cau- 
tioned him to be cool and have confidence and 
catch the twine if it came within his reach. I took 
deliberate aim for the top of his shoulder and pulled 
the trigger. I heard a great shout at the report of 
the gun, looked up and saw the man held the twine 
firmly in his hand. It had landed squarely across 
his shoulder. To the end on the ground we tied a 
half inch rope in diameter ; the man pulled the rope 
up, passed it through the pulley and descended 
safely to terra firma (that’s more Latin). The man 
called me 'his savior and offered to treat to the 
beer.’ The good people offered to get me on the 
police force, but I declined.” 

“In one of the old school readers,” said Miss Wil- 
ton, “is a story of a man who was on top of a high 
building when the rope gave way and his escape 
was cut off. He was a married man, and his wife 
knit all of his stockings of stout yarn. She yelled 
to him to take off one, to commence at the toe and 
unravel it, which he did, until there was enough 
in length to reach the ground and fasten a rope to. 
Why did not your New Yorker do likewise?” 

“My man was like Jerry Simpson, he did not wear 
any socks,” said Foley. 

It was impossible to corner Foley, he always had 
an answer ready. The lady looked at her watch. 
“I had no idea it was so late ; it seems to have flown. 
Katie, we must be going. Mr. Foley, we have been 
most agreeably entertained. I am grateful for the 
pleasant hours spent. I hope you will allow us 

65 


to return at some future time; I am sure you have 
not exhausted your fund of anecdotes/' 

‘‘Miss Wilton, my domicile and self will feel 
highly honored by your gracious presence when- 
ever you elect to come. You will find the latch 
string dangling from the outside; pull the string, 
say the magic words ‘open sesanie,’ and you are 
inside,” spoke Mr. Foley. 

“Katie, in which direction does Mrs. O’Brien live, 
I wish to call on her,” said the teacher. 

“I will take you to her house,” answered Katie. 


66 


CHAPTER V. 

Miss Wilton Calls on Danny O’Brien's 
Mother and Complains. 

Sawyers Bar Has an Epidemic— Danny 
Falls a Victim. Miss Wilton Nurses 
Him. 

A WALK of ten minutes broug^ht them to the 
dwelling-. Mrs. O’Brien, this is Miss Wil- 
ton, our school teacher,” announced Katie. 
‘Tndade, and it’s glad I am to know you, mam, 
and it’s a purty young lady you are to be shure,” 
was Mrs. O’Brien’s greeting. 

“Mrs. O’Brien, I have called to converse with 
you in regard to Danny, your son. It is with re- 
luctance that I make a complaint against him.” 
Here she was interrupted by Mrs. O’Brien. 

“You must spake plain English if you want me 
to know what yees mane. Your high fallutin words 
is all Greek to me, mam.” 

Thus admonished, the teacher proceeded in the 
most common terms to relate the doings of the 
previous week at school. She concluded by saying : 
“I have decided to suspend Danny. As his mother, 
I thought perhaps by your talking to him you might 
exact a promise to stop his mischief, and I would 
permit him to return to school.” She explained 
what she meant. 


67 


“If s sorry indade I am, mam, to have to say that 
he will no more mind me than he will yees. The 
young spalpeen thinks he is too big and knows more 
than his poor old mither. It’s many times I says, 
'When the father and mither can’t make the kids 
mind, how can they look for the teacher to do it.’ 
It’s right yees are, mam, Danny and Tommy Crane 
does all the devilment at school. It’s a foine bating 
that boy of mine needs, bujt I am not strong enough 
to give it him. I’ll be after telling his father when 
he comes over from the mine. Danny has an old 
plug of a horse that he makes a dollar out of now 
and again, hiring him to men to go to the mines. 
Danny thinks the world and all of this old cayuse.” 

Mrs. O’Brien was a sensible, whole-souled Irish 
woman. Danny was her only child, and she loved 
him with all a mother’s affection. Still she knew his 
mischievous qualities, and did not try to shield or 
uphold him. “I hope yees has no hard feelings 
agin me, mam, for the young gosoon’s dirty capers. 
Come and see me agin,” were Mrs. O’Brien’s parting 
words, as the teacher arose to depart. “I have only 
the kindest wishes for you. I do not blame you 
in the least for Danny’s disobedience; it is unfor- 
tunate, that is all. I shall surely visit you again, 
and hope my errand will be more pleasant. Now, 
good-bye,” said the teacher. 

Monday morning the teacher held a conference 
with Mr. Davis and informed him of her resolution 
to suspend Danny on circumstantial evidence. ‘T 
must be firm. If I allow this offense to pass without 

68 


rebuke, they are apt to commit a more serious one 
next time. I will make an example of him.*' “Yes, 
pursue a vigorous policy; the Trustees and com- 
munity will uphold you, affairs will run smoothly, 
and you will be rid of annoyance for the rest of 
the term,” was Mr. Davis* advice. 

Danny had reported to Miss Bartle the progress 
made during the past week, and that lady was in 
great glee. He informed her that the teacher had 
visited his mother and announced her determina- 
tion to suspend him from school. “I am going to 
stay away and not give her the opportunity,** said 
that young hopeful. “You might absent yourself 
for a couple of weeks until the thing has blown 
over ; then return and continue the annoyance. One 
more week like last will see her finish,** said Miss 
Bartle. 

The scholars were all present Monday, with the 
exception of Danny. The news that he would not 
be allowed to attend school had a subduing effect 
on the boys, so their conduct was exemplary. 

The Black Bear Gold Quartz Mining Company, 
located seven miles from Sawyers Bar, needed more 
men. A notice of their wants was sent to Grass 
Valley, California. Eight men came up in response 
to the call to work. Sawyers Bar was the terminus 
of the wagon road. From this place was a trail to 
each mine. Passengers and supplies were con- 
veyed by means of saddle and pack animals. Danny 
O'Brien was the possessor of a horse which for a 
stipulated sum he leased to travelers. When this 

69 


party of eight men arrived at Sawyers Bar, Danny 
and his horse were hired to take a load of baggage 
to the Black Bear Mine. He made the journey 
safely, but on his return made mention that one of 
the men, a Mr. Johnson, had complained of a head- 
ache and not feeling well. No attention was paid 
to this ; a headache is of common occurrence. The 
next day a call came over the telephone for the 
doctor at Sawyers Bar. Dr. Raines went over, ex- 
amined the sick man and pronounced it a case of 
small pox. The doctor prescribed for the patient, 
issued orders that he be isolated from the other men, 
and that he be provided with nurses. The doctor 
gave information to all the men as to what preventa- 
tives and disinfectants to use, and returned. 

On his arrival at Sawyers Bar he informed the 
citizens there was a case of small pox at Black 
Bear. The news spread instantly; there was the 
greatest excitement; nothing else was talked of. 
The people concluded that those eight men had 
brought the malady from Grass Valley and their 
stoppage of transit at Sawyers Bar had exposed the 
whole community to the dread disease. The Salmon 
country had never experienced a small pox epidemic. 
The major portion of the people had never seen a 
case; their knowledge of what it was had been 
gained by reading and hearing. Some were in- 
clined to be skeptical ; they argued the doctor might 
be mistaken. To set all doubts at rest the County 
Physician was sent a telegram. He came, the two 
doctors went over, examined the invalid, and the 

70 


County Physician confirmed the statement that it 
was a genuine case of small pox. He told the peo- 
ple they must use every precaution to prevent 
its spread. On learning the truth, one son of the 
Celtic Isle sped away to Etna Mills. On reaching 
there he gave vent to the following: “Folks, kape 
away from Black Bear; they is dying by the hun- 
dreds. A man just gits a headache and then turns 
up his toes. They calls it small or little pox.” 

A meeting was held that evening. Measures were 
discussed and a system of quarantine adopted. The 
other portions of the county declared a quarantine 
against the Salmon country. All travel was sus- 
pended; a general exodus from Sawyers Bar took 
place to the mountains adjacent to the town. The 
mail carrier was instructed not to enter the town ; 
a man was detailed to meet him half a mile away; 
the mail sacks and contents were fumigated on their 
arrival and departure. Every approach was guarded 
day and night ; every available man was required to 
take his turn at sentry duty. Every person carried 
a lump of asafetida; many were vaccinated; every 
device was resorted to in an effort to combat the 
contagion. 

Three days had elapsed since Danny O’Brien 
accompanied the men from Grass Valley to Black 
Bear. He complained of a headache and burning 
sensation all over his body. The doctor was sum- 
moned and said it was another case of small pox. 
He told Mrs. O’Brien Danny must have faithful 
nursing. Their dwelling house was in the suburbs; 


71 


a yellow flag was displayed and the place avoided. 
The mother was alone. The father was employed 
at Black Bear. Mrs. O’Brien wished to send for 
her husband when Danny was stricken, but on 
account of his being exposed over there, the citizens 
persuaded her from doing so. For thirty hours the 
loving mother watched by the bedside of her son, 
giving the medicine according to directions and min- 
istering to his wants. After her long vigil the doc- 
tor noticed her exhausted condition and realized she 
must have someone to relieve her. The good wo- 
man had never complained or asked for help. The 
physician hurried to town, made known the 
woman’s predicament and urged the necessity for 
prompt action. Self-preservation, the first law of 
nature, was very much in evidence when the sub- 
ject of acting as nurse was broached. Many were 
the excuses offered ; some could not go because they 
had families, they might bring the disease home to 
their loved ones. Many wouldn’t go under any con- 
sideration ; money was no inducement. The doctor 
bethought of Miss Jessie Bartle ; he knew the friend- 
ship that existed between her and Danny, he 
thought likely she would volunteer. He called on 
the lady, made known his mission and urged her to 
go if only for a few days until Mrs. O’Brien could 
recuperate. She heard him through, then replied: 
''Me nurse a small pox patient? No indeed, the dan- 
ger is too great; I am young, life is too sweet for 
me to incur any risk. You will have to look else- 
where, I must decline.” Almost in despair, the doc- 

72 


tor sought Mr. Davis. He knew if any man could 
provide an aid, it was the merchant. As he en- 
tered the store he perceived Mr. Davis and Miss 
Wilton in earnest conversation. He saluted, asked 
to be excused if he were intruding, but pleaded his 
business was pressing. He briefly stated the condi- 
tions at Mrs. O’Brien’s and his attempts to get as- 
sistance. “The woman is worn out, she must have 
some one to relieve her and that right away ; it will 
be an act of charity, Mr. Davis, if you can furnish 
a helper.” 

The merchant was thinking whom he could get, 
when the lady teacher said: “Doctor, I will go.” 

“Bless me, I had not thought of you in that 
capacity,” exclaimed the man of medicine. “When 
you approached us, we had decided to close the 
school until such time as the epidemic had spent 
its force.” 

“I am at leisure, I offer my humble services,” 
said the lady. 

“Have you considered the subject and given seri- 
ous thought of the danger?” asked the physician. 

“Yes, it is a condition that does not require much 
study. I have youth and health and the chances 
are favorable that I may not contract the disease. If 
I should, I have confidence that some good Samari- 
tan will care for me,” answered the lady. 

“Your generous offer came as 'a ray of sunshine 
from out a cloudy sky.’ I was at a loss whom to 
ask. I will not try to dissuade you. If you should 
fall a victim to the malady you will not lack for 
attention,” said Mr. DaVis. 


73 


‘'Doctor, I must go and pack what necessary 
articles I will need,’' spoke the lady. 

The physician went with her to Mrs. Fremont’s. 
The teacher told that lady of the situation, and re- 
quested her to help to get ready. “My dear, I will 
not protest against your going. It is a noble, Chris- 
tian deed. I pray Heaven may protect you.” 

Her satchel packed, she bade Mrs. Fremont and 
Katie an affectionate farewell. Her eyes were moist 
as she said “Adieu.” 

On the journey the doctor gave her instructions 
as to the care of the patient, and furnished her with 
preventives. On arriving at the house he knocked 
on the door, but received no answer. Turning the 
knob, they entered and went to the sick room. Sit- 
ting in a chair by the bed, fast asleep, was Mrs. 
O’Brien ; tired nature had asserted herself and over- 
come her efforts to keep awake. The doctor aroused 
her. With a scared look and a start, she began to 
make excuses. “That will do, no apologies are ex- 
pected. I have brought a nurse. You must go to 
bed instantly. Miss Wilton, assist her to undress, 
and I will remain until you return.” 

The faithful mother wanted to ask questions, but 
the physician interrupted, saying: “You can talk 
tomorrow; sleep is what you require now.” 

In an adjoining room the mother sought a bed, 
and Miss Wilton returned to take up her watch at 
Danny’s side. “I feel relieved at having you here. 
I will return tomorrow,” said the doctor. He left 
medicine to be administered every two hours. Danny 

74 


was in a stupor; at times he was rational. In one 
of the lucid spells, he called “Mother, where are 
you?*’ “Hush,” said the new nurse; “your mother 
is worn out and is sleeping. I am here to wait on 
you if you want anything.” 

He opened his eyes and said : “You look like the 
teacher; are you really her?” “Yes, I am the 
teacher.” “And you are taking care of me? I do 
not deserve such kindness from you; I put the 
pepper on the stove. I have been a mean boy ; I am 
ashamed.” 

“There, I forgive you. You must not talk until 
you are better. Take this medicine and go to sleep.” 
He obeyed, and soon fell into a slumber. 

The physician came next morning. He took the 
patient’s temperature and felt his pulse. “This is 
the most obstinate case I have. He has a high 
fever. I am striving to break the fever and force 
it outward. It is internal now ; he is not as well as 
yesterday. Continue the medicine as directed. I 
must go to Black Bear.” 

Mrs. O’Brien awok^ after sleeping ten hours. Her 
first words were : Vou blessed angel ; you are the 

last one in Sawyers Bar I looked lor to come and 
help me. Shure, but I felt cheap when you found 
me asleep.” She wanted co continue to praise Miss 
Wilton, but this lady said: “I have done nothing 
to merit praise as yet.” She told the mother the 
doctor had been there and said the boy was “about 
the same.” 


75 


That night the doctor came and announced : ‘‘Two 
new cases at Black Bear. It looks like we are in 
for it.^’ He said Danny was no better, but there 
would be a change for better or worse inside of 
twelve hours. That evening a rap was heard on 
the door. To the query, “Who is there?” came a 
voice: “It is I, Foley, with a roll of bedding. I 
have been worried about her and I have come to 
sleep in the woodshed nights. It is not prudent to 
leave two women without assistance. Should 
Danny become violent, you could not subdue him. 
There are stages in small pox when the patient 
becomes delirious and has to be tied down. If this 
should occur, scream, and I will be to your aid in 
short order.” 

“It is so considerate of you, Mr. Foley.” She 
told him the boy was in a critical state and the next 
twelve hours would decide his fate. She bade him 
good night and prepared to retire. 

It was 4 A. M. Mrs. O’Brien was on duty. A 
piercing yell awakened the teacher. She ran to the 
sick room. Struggling on the floor for supremacy 
was Danny and his mother. Foley arrived at the 
same time. It required the combined strength of 
all three to subjugate the boy and place him back 
in bed. He was securely fastened to the bedstead, 
and Foley went for the doctor. In the delirium he 
told of the conspiracy between Miss Bartle and 
himself, and implored the teacher not to expel him. 
The physician came, gave Danny an opiate which 
soon quieted him. “The situation is grave ; I do not 

76 


wish to conceal the truth. Unless I can compel 
suppuration and force it externally, we must prepare 
for the worst. I will remain until the crisis is 
passed.’’ 

In piteous, heart-rending tones the mother pleaded 
with the man of medicine to exhaust every expedi- 
ent to save her only son. She offered him every 
resource they possessed if he was successful. The 
physician was affected; he assured the mother he 
was using every means known to him to induce a 
favorable turn of the disease. The anxiety of the 
medical man was acute. For two hours he watched 
the patient for some auspicious symptom. A tiny 
drop of perspiration gladdened his visage and re- 
lieved the strain he underwent. Facing the mother, 
he said : ^^Your son will live and get well.” She 
dropped on her knees by the bed, and her lips moved 
in silent prayer. The patient’s body was now 
bathed in perspiration. The physician explained 
the treatment to be given for the future. “The 
boy’s recovery depends entirely on you. With 
proper care it is only a question of a short time 
when the boy will be around.” 


77 


CHAPTER VI. 


Mr. Foley's Interesting Reminiscences 
AND Anecdotes of Missouri. 

Miss Wilton and Miss Bartle Meet. 
School Reopens. 



HE enforcement of the quarantine had a de- 


pressing effect on Sawyers Bar. Business men 


complained that sales had decreased one-half. 
A gloom was cast over the community by the death 
of a patient at Black Bear. He disregarded instruc- 
tions when he was progressing finely, took a cold, 
suffered a relapse and died. Yellow fever and small 
pox days are the days that try men’s souls and 
women’s hearts. Saturday evening the men con- 
gregated at the store of Mr. Davis. This was the 
favorite rendezvous to review the past. Judge 
Barnes and Mr. Foley were present. It was the 
delight of Mr. Foley to get the Judge into a crowd 
and, in the parlance of the day, “josh the Mis- 
sourians.” 

He began: “When you and I were children, 
back in Old Missouri, our parents used to turn us 
out in the spring to browse, to live on grass and 
berries. They would let us stay out all summer. 
Once in a while some parent would come out and 
throw salt to us, same as they do to cattle. At 


78 


the approach of winter the parents would come to- 
gether and say, ‘It’s about time we were gathering 
in the young ones.’ A day was set, when they 
would mount horses, take all the dogs, and the 
round-up would commence. The dogs were trained 
for this sport. They always caught a youngster by 
a leg and held him until the men came and tied him. 
When all were secured we were put in wagons, 
hauled to our homes, and for a few days closely 
watched to prevent our escape to the tall timber. 
We soon became tame and tractable.” 

“No such thing ever took place,” said the Judge. 

“It’s a sure thing. I can show the scars yet 
where the dogs bit me. You have the scars too, 
Judge; pull up your trousers and let us see your 
legs.” 

The Judge refused. 

“Did I ever tell you my dream?” 

“No,” came from a number of voices; “let’s hear 
it.” 

“I dreamt I died and went to the gate that bars 
the entrance to Heaven. I knocked for admission. 
‘Who’s there?’ asked Saint Peter. ‘It’s I, Foley, 
from Missouri,’ I answered. ‘Missouri, Missouri,’ 
he repeated, ‘I never heard of such a place.’ ‘Have 
you a map of the United States handy?’ I asked. He 
produced the map and I hunted up Missouri and 
showed him. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I see there is such a 
State, but you are the first man to come here from 
that place. The others must have gone down to 
Hades.’ He looked up my record and said I was 

79 


‘all right/ and showed me the splendor of Heaven. 
I was favorably impressed and decided to stay with 
him. At this time we heard a rap at the gate. He 
answered the summons, then came and said, ‘They 
are coming sort of thick from Missouri, now. Here’s 
another man from your State.’ ‘What’s his name?’ 
I asked. ‘Mr. Harry Ward,’ said Saint Peter. I 
knew this man Ward; he lived adjoining me. He 
was the biggest scoundrel in thirteen States. I told 
Saint Peter of his reputation and added, ‘Surely you 
are not going to let him in here ?’ He looked in the 
big book and said, ‘I cannot find anything against 
him, so I will admit Mr. Ward.’ ‘Hold on, I want 
to get out if he comes in,’ I said. Saint Peter said, 
‘All right, go and see Old Horns and Forked Tail.’ 
I left and went down to the lower regions where 
Satan presides. He received me cordially, and be- 
gan showing me his realm. He had it divided oflf 
into separate apartments for each nation. ‘Here is 
where the English are burning. Here are the Ger- 
mans. Here the French,’ and so on for each na- 
tionality. Coming to the United States, he showed 
me where men from every State were burning. Each 
State was represented except Missouri. I re- 
marked to Old Nick that I had not seen any Mis- 
sourians and wanted to know if there were any. ‘Oh, 
yes, we have lots of them. Come, I will show you.’ 
He led the way to a large room, opened the door 
and I saw a lot of men hanging by the neck. ‘These 
are Missourians. We have to hang them up to dry 
80 


and let them season for a time. They are too green 
to burn.' I told him I was from Kalamazoo, and 
then I awoke. 

can go into any city, wherever there is a body 
of men, let them be strangers to me, and pick out 
every Missourian in the crowd.” 

^‘How would you do it, Foley?” asked the audi- 
ence. 

‘‘Simplest thing in the world. I would go into 
the midst of a throng, say ‘ Gentlemen, I want to 
address you on an important matter.’ As soon as I 
had attracted their attention and got them inter- 
ested, every Missourian would begin picking his 
nose. It’s a sure give away.” 

The Judge could stand it no longer. “Look 
here, Foley, if you do not quit slandering Mis- 
sourians I will commit a breach of the peace.” 

Affairs now moved smoothly in the Salmon 
region. The smallpox patients were rapidly con- 
valescing. No new cases were on the docket and 
the people expected the quarantine would be raised 
presently. 

Danny related to Miss Wilton the plot concocted 
by Miss Jessie Bartle, to which he was an accom- 
plice, to rid the school of her. 

“Why should Miss Bartle seek to injure me? I 
am barely on speaking terms with her and have 
never by word or action done the least thing to 
arouse her ire.” 


81 


“She is jealous of your good looks and winning 
ways. She has a sweetheart, Mr. Clancy, and she 
fears you may take him away from her,” said 
Danny. 

“The idea is too absurd to think about,” laughed 
the lady. 

The Doctor told Miss Wilton it was not neces- 
sary to remain any longer as nurse; she could re- 
sume her duties as teacher whenever expedient. 
“If I go among the people is there any danger of 
contagion?” she asked. 

“No, that epoch is passed. Burn the apparel you 
have been wearing,” said the physician. 

She informed Mrs. O’Brien of her intention to 
leave. 

“Stay with us, you can have the best suite of 
rooms. You came to me as an Angel of Mercy 
when no one else would come. You risked your 
life; my family are your debtors; all I own is yours 
for the asking.” 

“My dear woman, I only followed the golden 
rule; I did not come here for pay or glory. Mrs. 
Fremont was very kind, and expects me to return 
to her.” 

The Doctor made a canvas among the public in 
favor of Miss Wilton resuming her vocation. He 
told them her excellent physical condition rendered 
her immune from the disease. All were agreeable 
with the exception of Miss Bartle. A feeble pro- 
test came from the young lady, who said “the teach- 
er having been in contact wtih the epidemic might 
spread it among the scholars.” 


82 


Attired in new raiment the teacher made ready 
to leave. Mrs. O’Brien shed tears when she bade 
farewell. On the way to town Miss Wilton met 
Mr. Davis; salutations were exchanged. He said, 
was on my way to assist you to move back to 
your former quarters.” He told of the objection 
made by Miss Bartle. She in turn told him of the 
confession made by Danny O’Brien. He expressed 
surprise that a young lady would condescend to 
such pernicious practice. They came to the mer- 
chant’s store, entered, and there was Miss Bartle 
making some purchases. “It is an old saying, talk 
of Old Nick and he will appear,” said Mr. Davis, 
laughing. The teacher walked straight to where 
Miss Bartle was and said, “I am informed that you 
have become very solicitous for the welfare of the 
children, to the extent that you would like to see 
me superceded. This conduct strikes me as am- 
biguous, in view of the fact that a few weeks past 
you were engaged in a conspiracy to disrupt the 
school.” 

Blushing, Miss Bartle answered: “’Tis false, I 
did not try to break up the school.” 

“I reiterate you did. Danny O’Brien has stated 
you were the instigator of a plot which, if carried 
out, would have driven any teacher with a spark of 
pride or self respect to resign. You promised a 
paltry sum of five dollars, one dollar of which you 
paid, the balance to be given when the reprehensible 
work was perfected. Danny, ashamed of his part, 
has asked for pardon. When he was hovering 

83 


near to death you were implored to go to his as- 
sistance; you absolutely refused. You are utterly 
devoid of any delicacy of feeling. What I have 
ever done to merit such treatment from you is be- 
yond my comprehension. During my sojourn at 
Sawyers Bar I shall ignore your existence, and 
refuse to recognize you in public or private.^^ Miss 
Wilton never lost her temper during this denuncia- 
tion, which was dignified and withering. 

Several people heard the criticism of Miss Bartle. 
This lady made no reply ; she was speechless. The 
teacher said, ‘T am at leisure, Mr. Davis.’' The 
two walked towards Mrs. Fremont’s. 

'T wanted to pat you on the back and say bravo. 
She deserved the rebuke,” spoke the merchant. 
“If the protest had come from a parent I would 
have given it consideration, but her motive is one 
of petty jealousy, which has no foundation.” 

They agreed the school should re-open on Mon- 
day. They reached Mrs. Fremont’s; that lady met 
them at the door. 

“You darling, I see you have come to stay. I 
have been so lonely and missed you so much.” 

“Yes, the prodigal has returned. Have you a 
fatted calf to kill?” asked the teacher. 

“No, but I have some nice fat chickens and we 
will have a chicken dinneV.” Katie came in. 

“Oh, teacher, you don’t know how glad I am to 
see you back. I must have a kiss.” 

Punctually at 9 2.. m. Monday there gathered at 
school the pupils who could attend. The teacher 

84 


said, “Children, I think we are fortunate at having 
escaped so lightly. I hope we will get on nicely 
and have no more disagreeable experience.” It 
was announced the quarantine would be lifted in 
three days, and traffic and travel with the outside 
world resumed. 

A young man, whose abode was at Sawyers Bar, 
was in love with a young lady, a resident of Etna 
Mills. She returned his affection. Once a week he 
paid a visit to his Inamorita. During the quaran- 
tine this privilege was denied. He chafed under the 
restraint, but had to submit to the inevitable. He 
called her up over the telephone. A bachelor who 
had a phone on the line between the two places 
took down the receiver. He overheard this con- 
versation : 

“Minnie, darling, is that you?” 

“Yes, it's me, dear George.” 

“Say, it's awful that I cannot go and see you. 
Why, it's two whole weeks since I last saw you, 
sweetheart.” 

“Yes, dear, it's just horrid. Say, George, do you 
think any of the smallpox bacilli could travel out 
here over the wire and get on my lips?” 

“I don't know, darling, but I hardly think so. 
Say, Minnie, I send you over the wire a dozen hugs 
and a bushel of kisses; did you receive them?” 

“Well, I felt something, dear. Your tootsey 
wootsey is lonesome. Come out when you can. 
I send you hugs and kisses in return. Goodbye, 
lovey.” 


85 


‘‘Goodbye, sweetheart.” 

George was in the act of hanging up when the 
measly bachelor butted in, “Say, George, the tele- 
phone company cannot afford to send hugs and 
kisses at the usual rates. They are heavy and lia- 
ble to break the line.” 

“Who are you?” asked George. 

“Say, George, do you think that bacilli germ hit 
Minnie in the kisser?” 

“You dirty sneak, you have been listening.” 

“Say, George, tootsey wootsey is lonesome and 
says come out. She sends you hugs and kisses; 
yum, yum.” 

“I would punch your head if I knew who you 
were.” 

“Goodbye, sweet heart, ha, ha.” 

This was the limit, George hung up the receiver 
with a bang. “It’s a shame that a man cannot talk to 
a lady without some eavesdropper taking it all in,” 
spoke George to the telephone operator. 

“He must be a Missourian,” said Foley. 

George strode away. He was in no humor for 
guying. ^ 


86 


CHAPTER VII. 


Sawyers Bar Celebrates the End of the 
Epidemic. 

Miss Wilton and Mr. Foley the “Ob- 
served OF All Observers" at the Ball. 
Mr. Foley Entertains the Guests 
With Amusing Anecdotes. 



IHE prohibitory measures repealed, a free ball 


and supper was advertised to celebrate the 


^ period so luckily passed. It was a g^rand affair; 
every one present, hand shaking and good fellow- 
ship was the order of the evening. Foley, as he 
described it, was dressed in his best bib and tucker. 
He was ubiquitous. 

Miss Wilton was there. She was easily the 
belle of the ball. Her handsome features and dis- 
tinguished mien eclipsed all others. She was re- 
peatedly importuned to dance, but quietly declined. 
Her answer was the same to all : have forsaken 

dancing.’’ Foley came, took a seat by her side, and 
urged her to dance just once with him. 

'‘If there is a man in Sawyers Bar to whom I 
would concede that preference, Mr. Foley, it is you. 
If I tripped the light fantastic toe I would have to 
rescind my resolution not to dance; I have already 


87 


refused a number. You appreciate the position I 
occupy, and I feel you will excuse me. I came with 
Katie; if you are not provided with a partner you 
may escort me to supper,*' said the teacher. 

“I will be delighted and feel highly honored. My, 
but the others will be envious of me," said Foley. 

When the time for supper came, Foley sought 
the teacher. They entered the dining room and 
were the “observed of all observers." Occupying 
a seat opposite to them was Mr. Davis. He said: 

“Foley, you stole a march on us ; some of us feel 
piqued." 

“Yes, I feel somewhat like a celebrated race- 
horse, a little slow on the start, but I get there on 
the home stretch," was the rejoinder. 

“This being leap year I exercised the preroga- 
tive of my sex, I proposed to Mr. Foley." Before 
the lady could complete the sentence several ex- 
claimed : 

“Allow us to congratulate you, Mr. Foley; you 
must be a happy man." 

“I proposed to Mr. Foley to be my partner for 
supper. I will do him the credit to say he blushed 
and said, ‘Oh, this is so sudden,* just as if I had 

ff 

proposed in good faith." 

“Miss Wilton, you have only to say the word, 
when you can put your clothes in my trunk, and 
change your name," retorted Mr. Foley. This kind 
of badinage and repartee was the order of the even- 
ing. 


88 


“Ladies and gentlemen, I need not remind you 
of the danger from which we have so happily 
emerged. There is one deed of valor stands pre- 
eminent, which I will recount. When Danny 
O’Brien was stricken, his mother was alone, badly 
in need of some one to help nurse. The physician 
tried to induce different people to assist the mother, 
but in vain. He was in despair when Miss Wilton, 
our teacher, volunteered her services. I have no 
words of censure for those who refused to go ; self- 
preservation is inherent in all of us. But think of 
the utter disregard for danger, the abnegation of 
this lady, a comparative stranger, not related by 
any ties of friendship, generously donating her skill 
and time. Mrs. O’Brien would be more than will- 
ing to compensate her, but she refused all offers of 
pay. Such conduct is heroic and noble. It reminds 
us of the maxim, 'That one touch of nature makes 
the whole world akin.’ I have here a poem by 
Alice Cary, who has given to the. public so many 
beautiful verses. The title is 'Nobility:’ 

'' 'True worth is a being, not seeming. 

In doing each day that goes by, 

Some little good; not in dreaming 
Of great things to do by and by. 

For whatever men say in blindness. 

And in spite of the fancies of youth. 

There’s nothing so kingly as kindness. 

And nothing so royal as truth. 


89 


We get back our mete as we measure, 

We cannot do wrong and feel right. 

Nor can we give pain and feel pleasure, 

For justice avenges each slight. 

The air for the wing of the sparrow. 

The bush for the robin and wren, 

But always the path that is narrow 
And straight for the children of men. 

We cannot make bargains for blisses. 

Nor catch them like fishes in nets ; 

And sometimes the thing our life misses. 

Helps more than the thing that it gets. 

For good lieth not in pursuing. 

Nor gaining of great nor of small; 

But just in the doing, and doing 
As we would be done by, is all. 

Through envy, through malice, through hating, 
Against the world early and late. 

No jot of our courage abating, — 

Our part is to work and to wait. 

And slight is the sting of his trouble 
Whose winnings are less than his worth ; 

For he who is honest is noble. 

Whatever his fortune or birth.' 

“This expresses my sentiments of Miss Wilton,” 
said Mr. Davis. The teacher arose: 


90 


“Ladies and gentlemen, I was reared a Christian 
and endeavor to practice the teachings of the Bible 
so far as I comprehend them. In the small part 
I rendered as nurse, there was some slight risk, but 
people endanger their lives every day. Mr. Foley 
is deserving of a tribute of praise. He rendered 
aid at the most critical period when Danny was 
delirious and endeavored to escape from the bed. 
We were unable to cope with him. Mr. Foley had 
the foresight to be near and saved the boy’s life, for 
had he succeeded in getting away the result would 
have been fatal.” 

“A speech, Mr. Foley.” This worthy responded : 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the human family likes 
to be flattered, and I am no exception to the rule. 
It tickles my vanity to hear this encomium from 
such beautiful lips, but there is an affliction known 
as the swell head that I might fall a victim to. I 
have observed its workings on others. They are 
egotistical, conceited, important and in love with 
themselves. It is always big I and little you with 
them. They believe the earth would not revolve 
on its axis without them. They think they are 
perfection, just it. I knew a young man who had 
this self-esteem in its worst form. His father, a 
sensible man, noticed it. One day he took him to 
J:ask. He said, 'My son, you have got it bad. I 
have heard you dispute and contradict men of ex- 
perience and learning. You must quit that and 
have a decent respect for the opinion of others. 
You think you know it all, but you ought to go to 

91 


the creek and soak your head awhile/ This talk 
had its effect; in the vernacular of the present, the 
young man ‘took a tumble/ 

“I will tell you a story. We have satiated our 
appetite, and enjoyed the repast. Apropos of eat- 
ing, I attended a ball and supper, once on a time, 
and wrote describing my prowess as gourmand: 

“I took a seat at the table 

And eagerly did scan 

The good things there provided. 

To tempt the appetite of man. 

I reached both right and left, 

I took from far and near, 

The way those victuals vanished. 

You ought to see them disappear. 

The landlord approached me. 

And thusly did he spake. 

Whilst my jaws worked overtime 
Upon the pie and cake : 

‘Young man, you're a fine feeder. 

The best I ever saw. 

ril give back the price of your ticket, 

If from that table you’ll withdraw. 

‘Say, I have just been married, 

I am starting out in life. 

If you keep working of your jaws. 

You will bankrupt me and wife.’ 


92 


I accepted of his offer, 

And rose for to depart, 

The boss breathed more easily, 

A load was off his heart/' 

This little doggerel created a laugh. 

*T invented the first hotel to run on wheels. When 
the first transcontinental railroad was being built it 
was no small piece of work to feed the men who work- 
ed ahead, and the boarding house had to be moved 
every week. To keep pace in this way considerable 
time was lost. The contractor was a personal 
friend of mine. His trials and tribulations he used 
to confide in me. One evening he said : ‘This mov- 
ing is a source of annoyance to me ; can you think 
of a plan that would improve it?' I was working 
with a crew of carpenters. I called into action the 
gray matter in my cranium, and evolved a contriv- 
ance. ‘Yes,' I answered, ‘give me four freight cars, 
place six carpenters at my disposal and I can make 
a traveling boarding house.' 

“The cars, men and material were furnished. In 
a week's work I had those cars divided off into sec- 
tions, arranged with reservoirs, tanks and recepta- 
cles for food. I had the roof taken off the cars, so 
they were open on top. The first section contained 
a tank, calculated to hold one hundred gallons of 
soup. The second department was a box capable 
of holding one thousand pounds of potatoes; the 
third section was for meat, and would accommo- 
date a whole steer ; the next apartment was for vege- 

93 


tables, into which could be stowed the product of 
a small sized garden. Then there was a place for 
coffee of 50 gallons capacity; another one of the 
same size for tea; there was a division to hold 200 
pies; another one to hold a quarter section of pud- 
ding. This was labeled the dinner car. The sec- 
ond car was divided off similar to the dinner car, 
with the soup portion omitted. It had a chute 
made on a grade of 45 degrees. The bottom was 
lined with galvanized iron. This chute had an in- 
let into a reservoir to hold mush. This was tagged 
Breakfast Car. The third car was a duplicate of 
the breakfast car, without any chute: It was 
painted on the side in big letters. Supper Car. The 
fourth car was rigged to hold dishes, knives^ forks 
and spoons. In one end of this car was placed a 
large range for heating. From this range pipes 
were led to each section, containing hot air, to keep 
the food warm. This was named the Eureka Car. 
I constructed an automatic attachment to each sec- 
tion, tank and reservoir, which was worked by but- 
tons from the outside. I had moved a large der- 
rick, so that the tanks, boxes and reservoirs (they 
were made portable) could be hoisted and lowered, 
at the door of the cook house. When it was break- 
fast time, the car bearing that name and the car 
Eureka were coupled to an engine and drawn along- 
side the food prepared; 20 men took hold, and 
filled the empty receptacles in short order. When 
ready the derrick was again brought into use, the 
instruments were put in their respective places, and 


94 


the cars hauled to where the men were at work. 
One man to tend the range, and see everything 
worked right was all that was required. When it 
was time to masticate, every man sought the car 
Eureka, pressed a button, when out slid a plate, 
knife and fork; he pressed another button, when 
out came a cup, saucer and spoon. He then step- 
ped to the breakfast car. If he wished mush he 
pressed a button, down the chute rushed a supply. 
The way mush slipped down that chute would have 
done credit to a toboggan slide. When each man 
had a sufficiency of any commodity he let go the 
button ; instantly the supply shut off. On the out- 
side, over each division was painted the name of 
the article it contained. All a man had to do was 
glance at the sign, see what he desired, press a but- 
ton, the machine did the rest. I went out with the 
first cars, and instructed the men in the workings 
of the machinery. The boss proclaimed it the 
greatest labor and time-saving invention of the age. 
He paid me a royalty of one dollar for each man. 
As there were five hundred men working I had a 
neat income every month. The cars were given the 
appellation ‘Foley’s traveling caravansary.’ In those 
days Sacramento was the nucleus and distributing 
center for a vast quantity of freight; all traffic was 
by steamers. The State Capitol was in its pristine 
glory and booming. A merchant with whom I was 
acquainted came to me and said, ‘Mr. Foley, I have 
several steamers loaded with merchandise, due here 
in the next few days. I need twelve thousand dol- 

95 


lars in coin of the realm to discharge my obliga- 
tions; can you accommodate me?’ I said, ‘Certain- 
ly.’ I just ran my hand into my vest pocket, 
pulled out that amount and gave it to him.” 

“Was it all in silver?” asked an auditor. 

“My friend, that question reminds me. A col- 
ored preacher was delivering a sermon on the crea- 
tion of man; he said God made the first man out 
of clay and water, then placed him up against a 
fence to dry. A member of the congregation asked, 
‘Parson, who made dat ar fence?’ ‘Put dat darky 
out ; sich questions as dat spile all de teology in the 
Bible.’ Thanking you for your courteous attention, I 
subside,” said Foley. He was given liberal ap- 
plause. 

All now repaired to the ball room, where dancing 
was indulged in till the wee small hours. The 
ball and supper was voted an immense success. 


96 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Danny Changes His Attitude Towards 
THE Teacher^ and in Consequence is 
Harassed by Tom Crane. 

A Bloody Fight, in Which Danny 
Is Victorious. 

D anny O’BRIEN was able to attend school ; 
he was a changed youth. His mother had told 
him all that transpired whilst he was ill ; 
how devoted the teacher had been, and but for the 
careful nursing he would have died; his nearness 
to death, made a deep impression on his mind. He 
was more sedate and manly. The lady’s slightest 
wish was law to him. By language and actions he 
endeavored to show gratitude and appreciation for 
her past goodness. 

His deference and solicitude for her welfare be- 
came so apparent that the older boys began to joke 
and guy him. He stood their jests good naturedly, 
replying, “She saved my life, I cannot do enough to 
repay her.” 

Tommy Crane was relentless in trying to harass 
Danny. One day he seemed more anxious to pro- 
voke him. He made a slighting remark, which 
roused Danny’s anger. 


97 


“Look here, Tommy, I have stood your reproach- 
es long enough. I do not care to quarrel, but cease 
your slurs right now.” 

A retort from Tommy, inaudible to all save 
Danny, precipitated a fight. Danny’s right •arm 
shot out, and landed on Tommy’s nose. He re- 
taliated and the fight was on. A scream from the 
other children brought the teacher on the scene. 
Calling both by name, she commanded them to 
quit fighting. 

“What do you mean by such behavior on the 
playground? I am ashamed of you both.” They 
desisted. 

“If you please. Miss Wilton, he insulted me; he 
called me a vile name, such as I will not allow from 
anybody,” said Danny. 

“You can have it out whenever you wish,” said 
Tommy. 

“Very well, we will arrange it after school.” 

She lectured them on the impropriety of quarrel- 
ing, and tried to exact a promise from them not to 
renew the combat. In this she failed. All they 
would agree to was not to fight on the school 
grounds. At 4 o’clock school was dismissed. The 
teacher requested Danny to remain. When alone, 
she asked Danny the cause of the quarrel. 

“Ever since my return to school he has joked 
and twitted me on my changed demeanor; with 
good humor I bore it as long as his remarks were 
not offensive. Today he applied discourteous 

98 


language. When I told him to stop he followed it 
up with another more aggravating than the first. 
Then I struck him.” 

“What were those remarks you took exception 
to?” 

“Miss Wilton, you are a lady, and I would not 
repeat them in your presence.” 

“Danny, promise me not to be the aggressor in 
another battle. Do you know it is disgraceful to 
fight?” 

“Not when you are insulted and your honor at- 
tacked. Miss Wilton, I will do anything within 
bounds of reason for you. I would be an ungrate- 
ful knave if I would not. I beg of you not to seek 
to bind me by a promise not to fight. If I refuse I 
will be branded a coward. I will whip him if I am 
able, and make him apologize to the school and 
myself for his vile language.” 

She knew he was sincere in what he said, for 
tears were in his eyes. 

“I will not urge you any further, if you consider 
the provocation justifies wiping out the insult.” 

They left the school house and walked down the 
road. The teacher and Danny parted at the upper 
end of town, where she resided. He continued on. 
Half way through town he was met by Tommy 
Crane, with a crowd of boys and men. Tommy had 
informed a number that he would compel Danny 
to fight Avhenever they met. 

“Danny O’Brien, let us finish that scrap.” 


LOf C. 


99 


“All right, let us go to that vacant lot back of 
the barn.” 

Calling Willie Cole, Danny sent him to tell his 
mother he would be detained at school later than 
usual, but cautioned him not to say a word about 
any fight. Some forty men and boys had collected 
to witness the combat. Turning to the men Danny 
said ; 

“Gentlemen, on my part this is a contest for prin- 
ciple. Lately Tommy Crane has been imposing 
on me. Today he used insulting language to me. 
If I am the victor he must retract those words. I 
understand it is to be a fight to a finish. All I ask 
is a fair show and no interference, until one of us 
cries enough.” 

“Are you going to be governed by any rules? 
What style do you intend to follow?” inquired a by- 
stander. 

“I prefer a bout under Marquis of Queensbury 
rules,” said Danny. 

“I will not agree to that way. I want a rough 
and tumble scrap,” said Tommy. 

“As you like,” said Danny. They stripped down 
to their undershirts. 

Mr. Crane had joined the throng and said : “My 
son, I will see you have a fair show.” 

Mr. Foley stepped forward and said, “Danny, I 
will see you have a square deal.” 

Both had friends and sympathizers. Signifying 
they were ready, the battle commenced. Blows 
straight to the face were exchanged. Blood was 
100 


soon flowing ; it was give and take ; not a word was 
spoken by either. Danny now changed his tactics 
and directed his blows to the body of his opponent. 
Tommy did not relish this and rushed to a clinch. 
Their arms locked in an embrace, back and forth 
they wrestled, struggling to throw each other. By 
a trip Tommy succeeded in throwing Danny to the 
ground and landed on top. 

“Will you give up, I have you now.” 

“Never,” came from Danny. 

“Then I will make you,” said Tommy. 

“Give it to him, son,” said Mr. Crane. Tommy, 
encouraged by his advantage and the words from 
his father, delivered blow after blow on his ad- 
versary’s head, who endeavored to smother the force 
as best he could. All the time he was doing some 
rapid thinking, and formed a plan of action. Pres- 
ently Tommy’s blows lost much of their power and 
speed. This was the opportunity Danny relied on. 
By a mighty eflfort he contrived to turn Tommy 
underneath. 

“I guess it’s my chance now.” For every blow 
received he gave it back with interest. Mr. Crane 
became uneasy and said to the spectators, “We had 
better separate them ; call it a draw, as honors are 
even.” 

“No, you will not,” said Mr. Foley ; “they agreed 
to fight until one cried enough. When your son 
had the best of it you cheered him on, never said 
a word about parting them. Now that the tide has 
turned you want to call it off. Fair play is fine 

101 


play; the first man that interferes will have to mix 
with me. Put in your best licks, make your gain 
count, Danny.” 

The advice was superfluous, for he fought as he 
had never done before. After enduring the on- 
slaught for quite a while, human nature could 
stand it no longer. Tommy spoke: 

‘T have enough. I take back the abusive words.” 

Danny released him, and struggled to his feet. For 
a second he wavered to maintain an erect position, 
staggered, and would have fallen, but Foley caught 
him ; he had fainted. Tommy lay on the ground, 
unable to rise. A glass of brandy was brought; a 
small quantity poured down their throats, which 
soon revived the boys. A bucket of water and 
towels were procured. The blood was washed from 
their faces and hands. Their features were dis- 
figured ; their eyes were nearly closed, noses swol- 
len, and several cuts and bruises covered their vis- 
age. 

It was a great battle. Both boys were full of 
courage; they were as nearly matched in build and 
weight as could be possible. Those who witnessed 
it used to regale listeners with the details for a 
long time. The boys soon regained their energy 
and were able to proceed to their homes. 

Foley accompanied Danny to his house. Mrs. 
O’Brien met them, exclaiming: 

“Good Heavens, my son, have you met with an 
accident?” 


102 


. Foley hastily gave a summary of the combat and 
the events that led up to it. 

"‘You should be proud of your boy. He upheld 
the honor and dignity of the school. He is a brave 
youth.” 

“I would have been tricked out of a victory but 
for the help of Mr. Foley. When Tommy was get- 
ting the worst of it, his father wanted to pull me 
away.” 

Healing remedies were applied to the sores. 

'‘You will be as good as new in a day or so,” said 
Foley. 

News of the fight became general and was the 
subject of comment. The consensus of opinion was 
that Danny was right. The intelligence was con- 
veyed to Miss Wilton. Publicly, she was non-com- 
mittal; privately, she exulted in Danny’s triumph, 
realizing that if Tommy was the winner, the exist- 
ence of the school was in jeopardy, for he would 
have domineered over the other boys, and pursued 
a policy of mischief. 

The day following, both boys were absent from 
school. In the evening the teacher paid a visit to 
Mrs. O’Brien. 

"My son is not in prime condition to receive 
company, but we are pleased to see you just the 
same.” 

"Danny, you are not as good looking as before 
the fracas, but I regard you most' highly for the 
principle you upheld and the valor you displayed. 

103 


It would not be proper for me to express myself 
publicly; this opinion is confidential,” said the 
teacher. 

‘'Tommy carried his jokes to an extreme ; patience 
ceased to be a virtue. He would have had to beat 
me into insensibility ; I would have died rather than 
yield to him. I was confident I would whip him. I 
felt right and justice was on my side. When I look 
better I will go to school,” said Danny. 

From there the teacher called on Mrs. Crane, 
That lady informed her that Tommy asked to be 
excused; he was not presentable. Both ladies de- 
plored the incident. 

In an interval of three days both boys appeared 
at school. In the meantime they had met, agreed 
to let by-gones be by-gones, shook hands and de- 
clared friendship. The two held a conference with 
the teacher. 

“Miss Wilton, you know the result of our late un- 
pleasantness. According to the compact there is an 
apology due from me to the school. I do not feel 
able to deliver an oral one. I know I should break 
down. Will it suffice if I indite one and read it?” 
asked Tommy. 

“Yes, I will make it easier than you propose. 
You express your regrets to me. I will say to the 
pupils, you have apologized in a satisfactory man- 
ner, and that the subject be dropped.” 

Tommy was elated ; he appreciated being let down 
easy, and expressed gratitude to the teacher. So 
it was arranged. 

104 


At recess time she requested the scholars to re- 
main, with the exception of both boys. She told 
them that Tommy had tendered a manly retraction, 
and instructed them that no reference be made to 
the difficulty in his presence, under penalty. They 
were then allowed to play. The teacher had no 
desire to humiliate Tommy, as he had exhibited the 
right sort of spirit. 

From now on the advancement of the school was 
a foregone conclusion. The older boys were 
tractable and observed proper decorum. The bread 
cast upon the waters in the small pox emergency 
was bearing fruit. 


/ 


105 


CHAPTER IX. 


Miss Wilton Relates Another Chapter 
Out of Her Life. 

O NE evening: the teacher remarked : “ Mrs. 

Fremont, I will recite the succeeding: part of 
my tribulation, if you are in a mood to listen.'’ 
"‘I am all attention,” answered that lady. 

‘‘I was expecting Frank, my betrothed. I knew 
he would no longer delay coming. I would soon 
know the truth or falsity of the reports. My uncle 
had heard I was on the ragged edge of expectation ; 
hoping for the best, yet at spells, fearing the worst ; 
my nervous system strung to the highest tension. 
I heard the gate open and shut. Intuitively I knew 
it was Frank. I hastened down the walk to meet 
him. Many a time I had watched him from a con- 
venient window. His pose I had indelibly printed 
on my memory. *His erect graceful carriage; his 
light elastic step, even the swinging of his arms; 
all these I had noticed. As I drew near to him, I 
could not fail to be impressed with his changed de- 
meanor. He walked slowly, his head bent as 
tho: gh meditating; his arms hung listlessly at his 
side. We were about to collide when I spoke: 

"‘Fn.nk, I am so glad you have come; I am almost 
frantic with suspense.” 


106 


“I looked into his face ; I saw how jaded he seemed. 
He had aged ten years in three days. He was 
dressed with the same scrupulous care and neatness, 
which always characterized his apparel. I had no 
need to question him ; his attitude told me more than 
words could express. The missing money could not 
be found. He spoke: 

“May, darling, my promised wife, will you allow 
me to call you by these endearing names still?” 

“Yes, Frank, you are the same to me as before; 
nothing that can be said or done will ever change 
my opinion of you. I believe you innocent, though 
the whole world proclaim otherwise. My faith in 
you will endure forever.” 

“ ‘May, those are the most comforting, re-assuring 
words I have had spoken to me. Heaven bless you 
for your confidence. I am as utterly devoid of any 
wrong-doing with that money as you are, who never 
laid eyes on it. Let us enter the parlor, be seated, 
and I will tell you everything that has transpired 
since my last visit. 

“Wednesday afternoon the bank had closed for 
business. I was nearly ready to leave the building, 
when in rushed Mr. Bailey and exclaimed : 

“ ‘Frank, put this away for me. I am going over 
to the City to spend the evening and have a time. 
There is just Forty Thousand Dollars in currency; 
I will call for it tomorrow.' 

“I answered, ‘George, it is after business hours, 
the safe and vault are closed for today ; they have a 


107 


combination time lock and cannot be opened until 
tomorrow morning.’ 

“He said : ' Put it in one of the desks or drawers. 
You have a night-watchman, so there is no danger 
of a hold-up. I dislike to travel with so much of the 
Long Green about me; you will be doing me a 
favor to take care of it.’ 

“I yielded, counted the money and placed it in 
the drawer. There is where I made a mistake. I 
should have said : ‘No, George, I cannot accept the 
responsibility for such a large sum ; it is not busi- 
ness; the bank is closed.’ This is what my better 
judgment prompted me to say and do, but I had 
known George Bailey for years. He was a per- 
sonal friend, so to accommodate him I broke one 
of the bank’s rules. Now I am paying for my im- 
prudence. There was one person in the bank be- 
sides Mr. Bailey and myself, who saw and heard 
what took place. This was James Stone, son of 
the president. I have reasons to believe that he 
cherishes an intense hatred for me. As you know, 
he was a suitor for your hand. He proposed and 
was rejected. When he learned I was the lucky 
man, your accepted lover, he conceived a dislike for 
me. He has held the position of clerk ever since 
my connection with the bank. There have been 
several chances for promotion, but the president 
has never advanced his son. This has been a sub- 
ject for comment among business men. Friends 
have told me James was of a sporty inclination and 
given to dissipation. His father knows this and, un- 


108 


til he manifests a disposition to reform, his father 
will not assist him. He holds a subordinate situa- 
tion and is subject to my orders. He commits cleri- 
cal errors, which I am obliged to call his attention 
to and have him rectify. He resents my interfer- 
ence. He is really impertinent at times. I have 
never complained of him to the president, but have 
treated him affably. He would not do me an injury 
where there was a chance for detection, but in a 
subtle way he would blast my reputation. The op- 
portunity came, and he embraced it when that 
money was placed in the drawer. The drawer has 
a simple lock. He knew how easy it would be to 
extract the amount. He knows the whereabouts of 
that $40,000; I believe he purloined it. 

“These are my suspicions. I have not one particle 
of proof to base these assertions on ; I dare not 
breathe them to a soul but you. May. I saw James 
leave the building before I did. I went to my apart- 
ments. I regretted my action. I vowed if all was 
well in the morning, I would never again receive 
money after office hours. I had a premonition of 
impending evil. I retired early and endeavored to 
sleep, but my rest was broken. I arose, partook of 
breakfast and went to the bank twenty minutes 
earlier than usual. I went straight to the drawer. 
The $40,000 package was gone. It did not produce 
such a great shock, for somehow I feared it. I 
turned over the situation in my mind, went to the 
telephone and called up the president. I told him 
to come to the bank immediately as something ex- 


109 


traordinary had happened. He replied: ‘I will be 
down in fifteen minutes.’ 

“He came, went to his office. I followed and 
locked the door to prevent being disturbed. I made 
a clean breast of the affair; I concealed nothing; I 
admitted my culpability in receiving the money 
after the bank was closed. When I had finished, 
he said: 

“ ‘Frank, I will not upbraid you ; it is unfortunate ; 
when the news leaks out it will impair our standing 
and precipitate a run on the bank. However, we 
are abundantly supplied with funds to withstand 
any attempt of this kind. I will call a meeting of 
the directors and lay the matter before them.’ 

“I went back to my duties, outwardly as calm 
as ever, inwardly racked with torture. It was 2 
p. m. before they all appeared and went to the office 
of the president. James Stone, the night-watch- 
man and the janitor were sent for in succession. 
My turn came last. I was ushered into the presence 
of the seven directors, and asked to tell of the miss- 
ing money. I repeated it exactly as I had to the 
president. When I concluded, Mr. Payot, acting 
as spokesman, said : 

“ ‘Mr. Howard, you understand this sum of $40,- 
000 must be repaid to Mr. Bailey. If you are un- 
able to do so, then the bank must make good. Have 
you this amount, or will your friends come to your 
rescue and help you out of this difficulty? The 
whole matter can be hushed, if it can be adjusted 
this way, and things proceed as before.’ 


no 


“ ‘Mr. Payot, I have no such a large sum, and I 
will not permit my friends to make such a sacrifice 
to save me, if they are willing.’ 

“He gazed at me astonished. Said he : ‘Well, you 
are not willing to let your friends pay the amount 
and save your reputation, but you are willing to let 
the bank stand the loss. Remarkable, sir, remark- 
able conduct.’ 

“ ‘Mr. Payot, my friends are not wealthy. Should 
I borrow $40,000 it would impoverish them. I value 
my reputation as highly as you, or any man, does. 
When I found that money gone, had I that amount, 
I would have replaced it, and no one would have 
been the wiser. For the reasons I have given, to 
bankrupt my friends is out of the question. I make 
you this proposition : All the money I possess is 
Five Thousand Dollars. I will turn this over to you. 
My salary is $250 per month; I will pay $150 each 
month on account. To do this I will have to econ- 
omize in my mode of living and dress. I will con- 
tinue in your employ as long as I have life and 
strength, aye, until I am old and gray haired, so 
that every dollar, both principal and interest, shall 
be paid. This is the only offer I can make.’ 

“Mr. Payot said: ‘We will deliberate and let you 
know our decision later.’ I bowed myself out and 
returned to my desk. I heard a voice, ‘Hello, 
Frank.’ I looked to see Mr. Bailey, owner of the 
missing sum in front. 


in 


“ ‘I had a splendid time in the city. Why, what’s 
up? You look as though you had lost your only 
friend.’ 

“Rapidly I told him of what had taken place. 

“ 1 am awfully sorry to be the cause of your 
trouble. I would stand the loss if I could afford it, 
but I must have the money by tomorrow to settle 
outstanding bills.’ 

“I told him the directors were in session ; to go 
and see them. He came back. He said they had 
promised to pay him in full. 

“The directors soon after adjourned. President 
Stone summoned me to the office. 

“ ‘Frank, the directors have instructed me to say 
they have refused your offer to work out the 
amount. You must reimburse Mr. Bailey by 9 
o’clock tomorrow or hand in your resignation as 
cashier. This is their ultimatum.’ 

“In consideration of my long and faithful service, 
I had hoped they would condone my first mistake 
and give me time to pay the lost money. It now 
dawned upon me I could expect no clemency from 
Mr. Payot. He was the largest stockholder and 
dominant spirit in the board of directors. It was 
some consolation to know the worst. It relieved 
my mind of uncertainty. The issue was clean-cut 
and defined. Out of the bank I must go. On my 
way home that evening several friends enquired if 
the news was true, that the bank had been robbed. 
I referred them to the directors for information. 


112 


“I went to the bank next morning, intending to 
comply with Mr. Payot’s dictum. I notfced a mass 
of people outside clamoring for their money. I 
decided to stay until the run had passed. I went 
to the doors„ threw them open, and said to the 
crowd : ‘Please be orderly, line up and you will 
all get your money.’ I called all the clerks, and we 
began counting and passing out money. The presi- 
dent lent his aid. Till 2 o’clock P. M. there was a 
file of men and women coming and going. After 
that the number diminished and the rush was over. 
By closing time there were none asking for coin. I 
said : 

“ ‘This has been a strenuous day. President Stone. 
I place in your hands my submission to the powers 
that be. Our pleasant relations must terminate ; 
with reluctance I sever my relation with the bank.’ 

“He said : ‘Frank, this is not my doing. I was 
disposed to be lenient, and wished the directors to 
accept of your offer. Mr. Payot was inflexible. I 
dissented from their decision. Tell me, Frank, have 
you no theory or suspicion as to who took that 
money? I will place detectives on the track to run 
down any clue you may give me.’ 

“‘Yes, I have a suspicion and a theory, but it 
would be useless to charge any one on my word 
alone; I have no corroborative evidence. All cir- 
cumstances point to me as the guilty party and I 
suppose it will remain so.’ 

“ ‘Frank, I am loath to see you leave.’ 

“We shook hands and parted. May, there is noth- 

113 


ing more to tell. What further steps the directors 
may take I am not prepared to say ; I can only await 
developments.” 

'' 'Frank, you are not a transgressor. I see nothing 
to condemn. Any man might have committed the 
same error to accommodate a friend. The directors 
are too severe. Our marriage shall take place, re- 
gardless of what has happened.' 

" ‘No, May, I cannot allow you to link yourself 
with a suspected embezzler. So long as there is a 
taint of suspicion attached to my name our marriage 
must be postponed. You are too pure and noble a 
lady to be degraded. Some time in the dim, un- 
shadowy future the guilty party will be revealed ; 
it may be sooner than I expect, and it may be 
years before the mystery is cleared, and the wrong 
done me righted. When that time arrives, when I 
can come to you with an unsullied character, when 
my honor has been vindicated, if your affection has 
not undergone a change, I will come to you and say : 
‘May, let our nuptials be solemnized.’ 

“We conversed earnestly. I endeavored to com- 
bat his arguments about delaying our marriage. ‘It 
is to show the public my entire faith in your in- 
nocence.’ ‘It must be in abeyance for the present. I 
shall call on you as before. It is late and I must go.’ 
‘Frank, my love is not the kind that withers and 
decays ; look to me as your right supporter ; so long 
as I have life, I will be constant to you.’ We said 
good-night and good-bye.” 

“I think we had better follow suit,” said Mrs. 
Fremont. “You can continue at another time.” 


114 


CHAPTER X. 

Trying Experiences of Mr. Foley as a 
Baker 

His Narrative of the Monster Organ. 
Mr. Foley's Pet Fish. 

S UNDAY morning- the teacher said : “ Katie, let 
us call on Mr. Foley again ; I like to hear his 
yarns.” Thither they went. 

“Miss Wilton, you do me proud; pray come in 
and be seated.” Mr. Foley was engaged in making 
bread. “As soon as I have removed this loaf from 
its bed I will be at leisure.” He removed the lid 
from the Dutch oven and brought to light a batch 
of light, flaky bread. 

“Mr. Foley, you are a nice baker.” 

“I had some varied experience before I became 
proficient in making bread. There were two of us. 
We were camped in Modoc County in the lava beds, 
which later on became famous as the scene of a con- 
flict between the Modoc Indians and United States 
soldiers. My partner told me he was tired of flap- 
jacks, and to Try my hand at making biscuits or 
bread,’ so I started to make biscuits. I filled a large 


115 


pan two-thirds full of flour, put in a big supply of 
saleratus, poured in water and mixed it to a proper 
consistency. I divided the whole, so as to make 
eight biscuits about the size of my head. I placed 
the mess in the oven and baked it for an hour. I 
told my partner: ‘We will have some nice, fresh 
loaves for dinner.’ When I took them out I noticed 
they looked very yellow. He said, ‘they look an 
awful color.’ He took one in his hands and tried 
to break it in two; he exerted all his strength, but 
it was no use. He seized the butcher knife, a fine 
Damascus steel, and made a vicious stab. The 
point turned the shape of a scythe, but the biscuit 
was not damaged. ‘ Well, I’ll break the blamed 
thing.’ He went out, grabbed the ax and swung 
on the biscuit. A large piece flew from the blade, 
but the thing was unhurt. Now thoroughly 
angered, he picked it up in both hands and threw 
it at the cat. It struck the animal fairly, which 
gave one or two shivers and died. The others 
were no better, and were consigned to the ground in 
a heap. ‘A man ought to be ridden on a rail that 
cannot make better bread than that.’ I held my 
peace. 

“In the last desperate battle between Uncle Sam’s 
troops and the Red Men, my biscuits decided the 
issue. A soldier out scouting ran across the cache, 
unable to make out what substance they were. He 
lugged the whole eight into camp. No one there 
could explain what material they were composed 
of. Efforts to break them with a sledge hammer 
116 


were futile. The fight between the opposing forces 
waged fiercely. The supply of ammunition for the 
most effective cannon gave out. Tf we only had 
some more balls or bullets/ cried the man in charge 
of the gun, 'we would whip them Redskins. Say, 
go bring those eight mysteries you found.’ In 
double quick time they were brought and two of 
them rammed down the cannon. A roar, and the 
column of Red Men wavered. 'Give them another 
dose like that, and the victory is ours,’ spoke the 
commander. This time three of the unknowns were 
fired from the cannon. The Indians were seized 
with terror. Noting the result through a field glass, 
the officer shouted : ‘We have got them going side- 
ways.’ A second later a white flag was displayed, 
borne by Captain Jack, Chief of the Modocs. He 
approached within speaking distance, and in broken 
English said : ‘Indian give up ; no can fight that 
kind of gun.’ He surrendered the whole band. 
Those two shots had killed and wounded ninety-six. 
My biscuits had won the day. A writer in de- 
scribing the battle said the American troops made 
use of a new projectile that was more destructive 
than chain shot. 

“My next attempt at bread making was attended 
with happier results. A lady loaned me some yeast ; 
enough she told me to make three batches. I 
poured it into a quantity of flour, stirred them well 
and went off to work leaving the pan and contents 
on the table. At night I returned, opened the door, 
and the first thing that met me was a stream of 

117 


dough. It had efiervesced, risen out of the pan and 
flowed in a stream over the floor. I threw some 
more flour into what remained in the pan until it 
was stiff enough to handle, then put it in the Dutch 
oven, calculating to cook it in the morning. I was 
awakened in the night by my partner saying: ‘Ed- 
ward, get up and help me.’ ‘What’s up?’ I asked. 
‘Why, this dough is raising so high, I am afraid it 
will lift the roof off the cabin. We must corral it.’ 
He had brought some boards, so we fenced it in, 
and put a heavy weight on top, to prevent its going 
through the roof. Next morning it had settled 
some. I dug away from underneath, lined the sides 
with sheet iron, and started a huge fire. Well, it 
took five hours to cook the thing. When it was 
done it required the strength of two of us to lower 
it down to a horizontal attitude. It was like a huge 
monument; but it was a dandy. It had all the leav- 
ening qualities, light, spongy and tasted better. I 
notified all the neighbors to come and get bread 
free. There was no making of bread for miles 
around for a week. My fame was made. They 
christened i. e ‘Foley, the Baker.’ 

“I helped build a big musical organ on the Carson 
River in Nevada, that was a hummer. There was a 
gang of mechanics employed to construct a quartz 
mill. Among the number was an Englishman, a 
German and an American (that’s me). We three 
became quite chummy and formed an alliance, both 
offensive and defensive. When there was any 
scrapping to do, they assumed the offensive, and I 


118 


the defensive. The owners had announced that 
when the mill was completed they would give a 
celebration, a ball and supper. The alliance con- 
ceived the idea of making a monster organ to fur- 
nish the music for the celebration. The owners 
promised us all the lumber we needed^ in our spare 
time we set to work. We made an overshot wheel 
thirty feet in diameter, to drive the machinery. We 
made a flume six feet wide by three feet deep and 
we had the whole river to furnish power. We 
labored diligently and the Leviathan assumed shape. 
As it neared completion, we began arguing as to 
what piece would be played first to christen the 
organ. The Englishman wanted ‘God Save the 
Queen,’ the German said play the ‘Watch on the 
Rhine.’ I vetoed both of these propositions, telling 
them it must be the ‘Star Spangled Banner.’ ' We 
discussed it pro and con, but could not agree. 
Finally, we compromised on ‘Annie Laurie’ as the 
opening tune. 

“Two days before the mill was completed we put 
the finishing touches to our organ. ‘Annie Laurie’ 
was in position, ready to, perform her part. Trav- 
elers, passing through the country, would stop and 
look at our mammoth and ask: ‘What do you call 
that animal; what is it?’ 

“When the day came, it was observed as a holiday 
by the people for miles around. First on the pro- 
gram were speeches by different celebrities ; next in 
order was singing by a choir and individuals ; then 
came the time for our music box to display itself. 


119 


We had made an immense gate to turn the river 
into the flume. It was raised and lowered by a 
lever twenty feet long. I had men stationed, and 
they were instructed to work the lever when I 
motioned. I gave the signal and they turned her 
loose. As the ponderous wheel began to turn, there 
pealed forth such a strain from 'Annie Laurie’ as 
was never heard before or since. The earth com- 
menced to vibrate, the people who were standing 
were thrown to the ground. Tt’s an earthquake,’ 
some said. 'Do you feel and hear the thunder?’ 
others exclaimed. ‘Yes, and the sky is perfectly 
clear.’ I had a lurking suspicion as to the cause, but 
held my peace. As the machinery got limbered up, 
the speed increased; the noise was deafening. At 
length it dawned on some that the organ was the 
cause of the commotion. One of the owners man- 
aged to crawl to the office (it was impossible for 
him to walk) and telephoned to Carson City for 
mule teams loaded with wood and saw logs to 
come out. We were only two miles from the City 
and in less than half an hour came four eight-mule 
teams, loaded. It was with difficulty the mules were 
gotten near enough; they had to be blindfolded. 
About forty men began pitching four-foot cord wood 
into the wheel ; the first sticks were made kindling 
of, and caused the roller to skip a note in 'Annie 
Laurie.’ At length all hands took hold of a saw log 
and by a combined effort hurled it into the machin- 
ery. With a convulsive throb and a shriek, the 
wheel stopped short, never to go again when the 

120 


old man died. The mule teams took fright and ran 
away. I could have closed the gate, shut off the 
water and stopped the racket, but it was so much 
fun, I thought ‘let the good work go on.’ Next 
morning the newspapers from Virginia City, which 
was eighteen miles distant, contained an account of 
an earthquake, which though slight, was distinctly 
felt.” 

“Please tell us about your pet fish, Mr. Foley.” 

“All right. I was from youth a disciple of Isaac 
Walton. Many an hour I have wiled away with rod 
and line, to entice the finny tribe. The one I am 
going to tell of was not allured with line and hook. 
I had a yearning to capture a fish without injury, 
and was of the opinion it could be tamed. I had 
a small flume which conveyed water from the river 
to a placer mine. It was my practice to clean up 
the sluice boxes every evening, to see what I made 
for the day’s work. I had a waste gate where I 
could turn the water out. At the end of the boxes, 
where the water emptied out it had washed a small 
hole in the ground. When the water was turned 
out I went to this spot, and usually was rewarded 
by finding fish, more or less, that had come down 
the boxes; once they were in the hole it was diffi- 
cult for them to escape; they would average four 
inches in length. My ideal, for to tame, must be at 
least ten inches. 

“On this particular evening, I went to the hole. 
There, sure enough, was my long sought for prize. 
He was cunning and eluded me for a 'time, but I 

121 


baled nearly all the water out and then caught him 
with my hands. He was a beauty, fully twelve 
inches long and weighed a trifle over a pound. He 
was of the species known as Rainbow trout. I 
carried him to my cabin and put him in a tub filled 
with water. Next day I made a small tank, ar- 
ranged it so there was running water, and put my 
fish in his new home. I named him Dick. For the 
first few days he was rather shy. I fed him angle 
worms, bread crumbs and caught flies. When I 
went to feed him I would call ‘Dick ! Dick !’ He 
soon got to know his name, and would come to the 
surface, eat out of my hand and allow me to handle 
him. One day I heard a noise outside. I looked, 
and there was Dick squirming on the ground. I 
jumped to the conclusion that he had seen a fly or 
insect on top of the water, sprang at it, and landed 
on the ground. I went and picked him up and put 
him back in the tank. I had barely got inside the 
cabin when I heard the same sound again. I gazed, 
and there was my fish on the land, trying to stand 
erect on his tail, flapping around, going through 
queer movements. My idea this time was Dick 
thought it sport to jump out and have me pick him 
up and put him back. He was having a little fun 
at my expense. Once more I seized him and placed 
him in the tank. I thought he looked at me sort 
of comical like. I went inside, and heard that pecul- 
iar noise again. I went out and there he was going 
through the same antics on the ground. I said : 
‘Dick, if you can amuse yourself to your satisfaction. 


122 


you may do so/ I decided to pay no more heed to 
him, only to keep an eye out and see he did not get 
hurt. I sat down to dinner, when who should ap- 
pear in the door but Dick. I watched to see how 
he managed to get over the ground. 

‘'He had a sinuous gait, after the manner of a 
serpent. By way of variety he would poise on his 
tail and then hurl his whole carcass forward, a 
couple of feet at a time. I was amazed. I had 
never read or heard of a fish being able to navigate 
on dry land. After all, when I came to study the 
subject, I concluded it was nothing so marvelous. 
This is the age of invention and evolution. We 
have the telephone, phonograph, automobile, wire- 
less telegraphy, airships, yes, and the New Men 
and Women, why not a New Fish? That night 
when it came time to go to bed, I took hold of Dick 
to put him back in the tank. He twisted and 
squirmed and made such a fuss, actually bit me. So 
I let go of him and decided to let him have his own 
way. Directly I saw him wiggle over to one corner 
and stretch out. I went to bed expecting to find 
Dick dead in the morning. Along about 5 o’clock 
I heard a peculiar sort of whistle, which I learned 
afterwards came from my fish. He could force 
air through his mouth and make a noise somewhat 
similar to a steam whistle. There by the side of 
my bed, standing erect on his tail, was Dick. He 
looked at me comical like, as much as to say : ‘Good 
morning, it’s time to get up.’ You know the habit 
roosters have of crowing at daylight. Well, my 

123 


fish was equal to the best of them for waking up. 
I never needed an alarm clock. He grew to be 
eighteen inches in length and weighed two pounds 
and a half. He avoided the water entirely now, so 
I concluded he must be amphibious. 

“He showed an inclination to follow me like a 
dog, wherever I went. At first I tried to compel 
him to go back; he would rear up on his tail, as 
much as to say, 'what are you going to do about it ?’ 
When I went ahead, he would come too ; every day 
he would go with me to the mine. While I worked 
away, he would busy liimself catching flies and in- 
sects. When it was time to go home, all I had to 
say was 'Come on, Dick.’ He was ready. When 
I wanted to go to town, I locked him in the cabin. 

''He was kind of shy when strangers were around. 
People came from miles around to see the fish that 
lived on land. One day I had occasion to go to see 
a friend about two miles away. In order to get to 
his house, I had to cross a creek that was some ten 
or twelve feet wide and three feet in depth. A foot 
log, six inches wide, afforded a crossing for foot- 
men. Dick, as usual, was with me. I crossed to 
the opposite side, then turned to see where my fish 
was. I was just in time to see him fall into the 
stream. I supposed he had decided to go back to 
his native element once more and enjoy a swim. I 
watched to see him come to the surface. He came 
up all right, but disappeared lu a second. Twice 
more he came up and went down, and then I never 
saw him more. I remembered afterward that the 


124 


last time he came up he looked at me reproachful 
like as though he expected me to save him. In 
crossing the log he had lost his balance and fallen 
in. Yes, he had lived so long out of water he had 
forgotten how to swim and actually drowned. I 
was sorry to lose Dick; he was a great comfort 
to me.’’ 




125 


CHAPTER XL 


Miss Wilton’s Vivid Portrayal of Her 
Affianced Lover’s Trial and Convic- 
tion. 

Number 1127. 

M ore than three months had elapsed since Miss 
Wilton was installed as teacher. A better 
gfoverned or more well reg-ulated school could 
not be found. Citizens acknowledged Mr. Davis 
was right in his ideas of a lady instructor. The 
older boys began to realize what they had lost by 
not applying themselves in the past. Perceiving 
their earnestness to acquire knowledge, the teacher 
assisted to the .utmost of her ability. Their studi- 
ous methods she commended. As yet the lady had 
drawn no salary. She received a check for con- 
tinuous services from Mr. Davis. 

“I am not entitled to that amount; you have not 
deducted for the time the school was closed,” said 
the teacher. 

“The trustees resolved that as it was no fault of 
yours, to pay your salary in full. I will insist upon 
you receiving the sum from me if not from the 
trustees. I am better pleased than three times that 
amount, your subduing those boys. Your failure 
to discipline the school would have meant my social 
downfall,” spoke the merchant. 


126 


‘‘If you think I deserve it, I will accept. Whilst 
I might have accomplished the purpose in other 
ways, you and I know that the small pox episode 
was the means of Danny’s reformation, and through 
him. Tommy and the other boys,” said the lady. 

“Mrs. Fremont, are you ready for some chapters 
from my serial?” enquired the teacher. 

“By all means,” answered that lady. 

“When the bank directors received Frank’s resig- 
nation, they did not intend to let the matter rest at 
that. They determined to prosecute him. With 
that end in view, Mr. Payot appeared before the 
Grand Jury, laid the information and evidence in 
their hands, and obtained an indictment for embez- 
zlement. Frank was arraigned before a committing 
magistrate, pleaded “Not Guilty,” and was bound 
over to appear before the Superior Court for trial. 

“Edward Sweeney, an attorney of San Francisco, 
was retained for the defense. Frank’s father and 
mother canvassed the case in all its phases. Mr. 
Howard, Sr., suggested a method : 

“ ‘Frank, my property will sell for ten thousand 
dollars; you have five thousand more; from friends 
I can borrow five thousand ; this makes a total of 
$20,000, or one half the missing money. Offer this 
to the directors. They surely ought to be satisfied 
with this and give you time to pay the balance.’ 

“ ‘My dear father, the most cogent reason, and 
the one which has the most weight with me, is, 
you and mother are getting old; your property 
yields an income sufficient to keep you comforta- 

127 


bly. For me to deprive you of your maintenance 
would be unfilial. Another reason is, from my 
learning of the directors, I am convinced your plan 
'would be useless. When they would not consider 
my proposal, they would not entertain the terms 
you mention. They will exact the pound of flesh, 
aye, to the last penny. You can do nothing for me, 
save give me your blessing; let me cope with the 
enigma ; if there is a solution, I will discover it.' 

“A consultation was held with Lawyer Sweeney. 
Events were gone over from the day the money 
was entrusted to him. 

“ ‘Frank, I must be candid and tell you we have 
a weak defense to present.' 

“ ‘We have practically none. I have not a single 
witness in my behalf. The directors believe I have 
stolen the money; they think by criminal proceed- 
ings I may become frightened and disgorge the sum. 
Have the case brought to trial. Do not procrasti- 
nate,' said Frank. 

“ ‘Hold up your head. Remember a man is inno- 
cent until proven guilty,' was the lawyer's parting 
admonition. 

“In every community there are those individuals 
who rejoice at a man's downfall ; instead of lending 
a helping hand, they give a shove or a kick and 
immerse him deeper in the mire. The tongues of 
these were busy with gossip; there were tales that 
Frank had been speculating in stocks and lost heav- 
ily; that in anticipation of his marriage he had ap- 
propriated the money.: Pope says: ‘Man’s inhu- 


128 


manity to man makes countless thousands mourn/ 

“Before the day of examination, Mr. Page, my 
uncle, went to Frank and said: 'I can raise the 
$40,000 by sacrificing my belongings; I will cheer- 
fully do this, rather than have the case come to 
trial. ^ Frank answered : 

“ ‘Mr. Page, I appreciate the spirit in which your 
tender is made. For the same motives that im- 
pelled me to decline my father’s offer, I must re- 
fuse yours.’ 

“The day of trial arrived. The press had kept 
the public posted. The court room was packed to 
its full capacity. The preliminaries were gone 
through and the impaneling of a jury was in order. 
The talesmen were questioned as to whether or 
not they would be willing to convict on circum- 
stantial evidence. Those answering in the affirma- 
tive were chosen. Those replying in the negative 
were excused. Twelve men were selected before 
the venire was exhausted. The District Attorney 
made his opening statement to the jury of what he 
expected to prove. 

“ ‘We have no dirqct or positive evidence to pro- 
duce, but we will present to you an array of circum- 
stantial evidence, so convincing that you will have 
no difficulty in arriving at a verdict.’ 

“Mr. Bailey was the first witness. He testified to 
giving $40,000 to Mr. Howard, the cashier, after 
the bank had closed ; of returning next day for the 
money, to be told it was missing and could not be 
found; that the directors had made good to him. 

129 


The cross-examination brought out that Frank had 
told him it was after office hours ; that the safe was 
locked and could not be opened until the next morn- 
ing; that he had urged Mr. Howard to put the 
package in a drawer as he was going to the city and 
disliked to carry so large a sum; that the cashier 
was reluctant to accept the money, but finally 
yielded to his pleading. 

“The next witness was James Stone, who gave 
testimony to having seen Mr. Howard receive the 
money, count it and place it in a drawer; that he 
left and the cashier was the last person in the bank. 
Cross-examined as to his relations with Frank, he 
said they were not cordial. He considered the cash- 
ier too dictatorial and had a dislike for him. Asked 
if his dislike was founded on jealousy because a 
certain lady had rejected him and accepted Mr. 
Howard, was objected to by the District Attorney, 
and the court sustained the objection. He was ex- 
cused. 

“The third witness was Tim Desmond, night- 
watchman, who swore to being on duty all night; 
that it would be impossible for any one to enter or 
leave the bank without his seeing them. He was 
not cross-examined. 

“The janitor was the next witness. He affirmed 
that the cashier came to the bank twenty minutes 
earlier than was his custom ; went direct and opened 
a drawer; at the time his action looked peculiar. 
He was not examined by the defense. 

130 


“The last witness was President Stone. He testi- 
fied to having received a telephone message from 
the cashier to hurry to the bank. He went, and 
heard the account of the $40,000, and its disappear- 
ance. He called the board of directors; laid the 
situation before them, and their action. Cross- 
examined, he said. he reposed the greatest confidence 
in Mr. Howard ; that he had pleaded with the board 
to give the cashier a chance to pay the amount in 
installments ; that he did not believe Mr. Howard 
embezzled the money. This last was objected to 
as merely an opinion. The objection was sustained 
and ordered stricken out. 

“The prosecution rested its case. 

“ 'Gentlemen of the jury, I have only one witness, 
the defendant himself. I shall rely upon your sense 
of justice to give his version that credence which it 
is entitled to; his veracity has never been ques- 
tioned. Mr. Howard, please take the stand.’ 

“The oath was administered. ‘Please tell your 
connection with the Corn and Exchange Bank and 
the history of that missing $40,000.’ 

“In a distinct voice, audible throughout the court 
room, Frank Howard began : 

“ T was born and reared, and mostly educated in 
the city of Oakland ; part of my learning was ac- 
quired in San Francisco. For more than eight years 
I was a trusted official in the bank ; for five of these 
years I held the responsible position of cashier. I 
received the $40,000 from Mr. Bailey ; I did this 
contrary to my better judgment. I knew I was 


131 


breaking one of the rules, namely, not to accept 
money after office hours. I did it at his earnest 
solicitation, for reasons which he has testified to. I 
went to the bank twenty minutes before my usual 
time; this was because I had a presentiment of 
danger. I was uneasy for the safety of the money. 
The lock on the drawer was a common one; any 
ordinary key would fit it. The meeting of the direc- 
tors and their subsequent action you have been told. 
As to who stole that money and where it went to, I 
am as much in the dark as you are. For thirty years 
I have been a resident of Oakland and the Bay City. 
If there is a man or woman living in these cities 
where my whole life has been spent, who can say 
one word derogatory to my reputation, I challenge 
them to come forward with the proof.’ 

“ ^Take the witness,’ said Attorney Sweeney. 

“ ^There will be no cross-examination,’ said the 
prosecutor. 'He has answered any question I might 
wish to ask in his statement.’ 

" 'May it please your Honor and gentlemen of the 
jury, this is our defense. I could introduce testi- 
mony to prove my client’s honesty, but as the 
prosecution has not sought to impeach his character, 
I do not deem it necessary.’ 

"To the student of human nature, it was evident 
the audience believed Frank Howard’s straight- 
forward version. Their sympathy was with him. 
They leaned forward eager to catch the words as 
they rolled from his tongue in a recital of his life’s 


132 


story. Had the verdict been left to them, it would 
have been unanimous for acquittal. 

“Both sides announced their case closed. The 
judge admonished the jury not to discuss the case 
among themselves or allow any one to approach 
them in regard to it. He dismissed them till the 
following day. 

“At 9 o’clock the court was called to order. The 
District Attorney arose and said : 

“ ^May it please your Honor, and gentlemen of 
the jury, the evidence of Mr. Bailey, Mr. Stone, Mr. 
Desmond and Mr. White, the janitor, has not been 
denied by the defense. They have practically ad- 
mitted its truth. In my opinion this is a case so 
plain “that he who runs may read.” It must be 
patent to every one that the $40,000 package did not 
take wings and fly away^ If Mr. Howard did not 
embezzle the money, who did? Why has not the 
defense introduced testimony to show that some 
one else is culpable for its disappearance. Why not? 
It has not attempted to prove an alibi. Do not 
allow yourselves to be swayed by an appeal to your 
pity or sympathies; render a verdict without fear 
or favor.’ 

“Attorney Sweeney spoke as follows : 

“ Tf your Honor please, and gentlemen of the 
jury, you'have heard from the lips of Mr. Howard 
a manly declaration of the missing package and his 
relation to it. He has not attempted to screen him- 
self, or conceal the most minute detail in making the 
mistake of accepting the $40,000 contrary to business 

133 


rules. Mr. Stone, president of the bank, has told 
you he does not believe Mr. Howard purloined that 
package. Does any reasonable man think that he 
would blight his reputation, after pursuing an hon- 
orable career all his life, by taking money which 
did not belong to him ? To do wrong is foreign to 
his disposition. His footsteps have followed in the 
path of rectitude. Prior to this unpleasant compli- 
cation, the future had a roseate hue for Frank 
Howard. He was engaged to be married to one 
of the most charming and estimable of young ladies. 
The wedding day was fixed: He looked anxiously 
for the time when the ceremony would be solemn- 
ized and his cup of joy replete. I reiterate, does any 
sane person believe that with these alluring pros- 
pects in sight, Frank Howard would deliberately 
wreck his future happiness, and the happiness of 
those he holds dearer than life? When Mr. Howard 
made to the bank directors the offer to pay all the 
money he had in the world, viz : $5,000, and from 
his salary each month $150 until the debt was paid, 
would it not have been more humane, more in keep- 
ing with the teachings of the Bible, to have accepted 
this proposal and silenced the affair, than to reject 
it and seek to consign an innocent man to state’s 
prison? Shylock, when he demanded the fulfillment 
of the bond, the full pound of flesh, was not more 
avaricious and vindictive than these bank directors. 
Will this notoriety redound to the credit of the 
bank? Echo answers “No!” From relatives and 
intimate friends have come tenders of the $40,000. 


134 


To raise this amount would have obliged them to 
dispose of all the property they possessed, and ren- 
dered them bankrupt. He refused to entertain these 
terms. He would not permit the sacrifice, even to 
save himself from prison. His conduct is magnani- 
mous. There is a mystery as to the whereabouts of 
this package. There are parties who ct^uld explain 
it, but for motives of their own they prefer to cast 
the onus, the disgrace, upon my client, an innocent 
man. Before finishing I desire to impress upon you 
the fallibility of circumstantial evidence, which the 
prosecution relies upon in this case to convict. Men 
have been found guilty on this class of evidence, it 
is true, but the chain must be connected and no link 
missing. This, we claim, it has failed to show. 
It will subserve no end of justice to find Frank 
Howard guilty. A verdict of acquittal will restore 
him to the honorable place he occupied in the public 
eye, and to the rank of a happy benedict. We ask 
this at your hands. I return my sincere thanks for 
your courteous attention.^ 

“ Tf your Honor please, and gentlemen of the 
jury, the defendant’s attorney has sought to throw 
discredit upon and impeach circumstantial evidence. 
In the absence of positive evidence, it is the only 
class obtainable. Hundreds of the most heinous 
crimes have been traced and the criminals appre- 
hended and punished by this kind of evidence. 
Every circumstance, every particular in this case, 
points to the defendant as the guilty one. By in- 
sinuation and suggestion, the attorney has sought 

135 


to impress upon you the possibility that some un- 
known, whose identity they refuse to disclose, has 
made away with the $40,000. This is nonsense, pure 
and simple. Had they evidence that would incrimi- 
nate any party outside of the defendant, would they 
not produce it to save him? The directors of the 
bank have been harshly criticised for not compro- 
mising on the terms offered by the defendant. They 
are convinced in their own minds Frank Howard 
knows where that money is. To accede to his 
offer would make them participes criminis, in 
protecting crime. To safeguard the interests of the 
public and the bank is their duty. The embezzling 
of other people’s money by officials is becoming a 
frequent occurrence. An example should be made 
of them when detected. This would deter others 
from pursuing the same policy. Reference has been 
made to the defendant’s previous good character. 
There are numerous cases on record where men 
have led honorable lives for a period of years. They 
could not resist a temptation, fell from grace, and 
their upright career was ruined. The present case 
coincides with these. It is the story of another 
good man gone wrong. The happy social and 
domestic future so vividly painted by the attorney 
for the defense should have been considered by 
Frank Howard when enticed to commit a crime. 
From the testimony we expect a verdict of guilty 
as charged at your hands.’ 


136 


“This closed the case. The judge instructed and 
charged the jury as to the law governing the case. 
In chief he said : ‘ 

“ ‘The defendant is guilty of embezzlement, or in- 
nocent of the crime. If any doubt exists in your 
mind, you must give the defendant the benefit of 
that doubt. Mr. Sheriff, take charge of the jury. 
You will now retire and deliberate.’ 

“In the interim, the probability of a verdict and 
its nature was discussed. Lawyer Sweeney was 
sanguine of acquittal, or a disagreement, which 
would be a victory for the defendant. The clock 
indicated the jury had been out two hours and fifty 
minutes, when a call for the sheriff came from the 
jury room. The talesmen filed in and took their 
seats. All was acute expectancy. The judge cau- 
tioned the spectators to refrain from any demonstra- 
tion. 

“ ‘Gentlemen, have you agreed upon a verdict?’ 

“ ‘We have,’ responded the foreman, and handed 
to the Clerk a strip of paper. The Clerk read : ‘We, 
the jury, find the defendant guilty of embezzlement, 
and recommend him to the mercy of the court.’ 

“ ‘Poll the jury, please,’ said Attorney Sweeney. 
Each one in turn was asked : ‘Is this your verdict?’ 
They answered in the affirmative. The judge 
thanked the jury, and told them they were dis- 
charged. A whispered consultation took place be- 
tween Attorney Sweeney and Frank Howard. The 
attorney arose and said : 


137 


'May it please your Honor, I had thought'of 
preparing a bill of exceptions and making a motion 
for a new trial, but my client has upset my calcula- 
tions. He requests permission to address the court 
and explain his desire.’ 

" 'Mr. Howard, you have my consent,’ replied his 
Honor. 

" 'If your Honor please, I am aware there is a 
routine of legal impediments that could be utilized 
to delay the machinery of the law. I do not wish to 
avail myself of any technicalities. I am prepared 
to receive my sentence; I bow to the will of the 
inevitable. My attorney has earned my profound 
gratitude for the able defense he put forward, in 
the face of adverse circumstances. I cherish no 
animosity towards the jury for having found me 
guilty. There are two kinds of circumstances in 
the passage of live, viz: good and bad. I am a 
victim of the bad kind. Some day the veil that ob- 
scures this secret will be lifted and the wrong done 
me righted. Do not construe these remarks as a 
bid for clemency, your Honor. I respectfully ask 
that judgment be imposed instanter. For conde- 
scending to listen to my remarks, I return my hon- 
■ est thanks.’ 

"Judge Smith deliberated for a few minutes. 'Mr. 
Howard, your request is a singular one. The rule 
is, when a person has been found guilty, to delay 
the operation of the law, by motions, appeals; and 
every device is exhausted known to the legal pro- 
fession. Your petition is the exception. I shall 

138 


comply with it. I have worn the judicial ermine for 
sixteen years. I have become familiar with all 
grades of criminals. I am willing to go on record 
as saying, I do not believe you guilty of the crime 
of embezzlement. Were I to follow the dictates of 
my conscience, I would set you free; but a jury of 
your peers has pronounced you guilty; I am only 
an instrument of the law and must prescribe the 
penalty. I shall give you the minimum sentence. 
Mr. Howard, the judgment of the court is, that you 
be incarcerated in San Quentin for a term of three 
years. I remand you to the custody of the sheriff.’ 

‘‘A dramatic scene took place. A lady, beautiful 
beyond compare, handsomely gowned, glided to 
Frank Howard’s side. Placing one arm around his 
neck, with the other uplifted, she exclaimed : 

'They have pronounced you guilty, my be- 
trothed. I proclaim you innocent. To prove my 
faith, I will marry you now, right here, if his Honor 
will perform the ceremony.’ 

"The lady was Miss May Wilton. The audience 
was moved to tears. Women sobbed; men drew 
out their handkerchiefs and wiped their eyes. Judge 
Smith was seen to turn his head. His Honor made 
no attempt to interrupt them. Striving to hide his 
emotion, in a low voice, Frank Howard spoke: 

" ‘May, it cannot be, not now. Do not prolong this 
interview or I fear I shall collapse. Come and see 
me in jail, when I am composed.’ 


139 


‘‘Placing both arms around his neck, indiiferent 
to the presence of the spectators, she imprinted a 
fervid kiss upon his lips, then quietly withdrew. 

“This language is not mine,” said the teacher to 
Mrs. Fremont. “It is taken from a newspaper ac- 
count of the closing scene in the trial, published next 
day. It is correct, however. Yes, I spoke those 
words, and put my arms around Frank’s neck and 
kissed him before the crowd. Do' you think it was 
a bold thing to do?” 

“No, I presume you were carried away with ex- 
citement and indignation,” answered Mrs. Fremont. 

“Turning to the sheriff, Frank said : ‘I am ready 
to go with you.’ 

“ ‘Mr. Howard, it is the rule when a man has been 
sentenced, to handcuff him; I do not wish to subject 
you to this indignity. I believe you a gentleman. 
Give me your word to do nothing to embarrass me 
and I will extend to you all the privileges at my 
command.’ 

“The jail was contiguous to the court house. The 
sheriff conducted Frank to the most spacious cell. 
Frank’s parents called and remained till late. 
Frank had especially requested that his mother do 
hot attend the trial, as he wished to spare 
her hearing unpleasant remarks made of him. The 
mother was nearly heart-broken when acquainted 
with the news that her son had been sentenced to 
serve three years in prison; her lamentations were 
pitiful to behold. 


140 


'My dear boy, you never stole that money ; it 
is not your disposition to do wrong. You are suf* 
fering for the crime of some other person. You 
were always a dutiful son.’ 

" 'Mother dear, you must bear up bravely. It dis- 
tresses me to see your sorrow. Under the provi- 
sions of the Goodwin Act I will not be obliged to 
serve but two years. Before the expiration of that 
time disclosures may take place. I am resigned, and 
supplicate you to make the best of it.’ 

"The mother became calm. He gave his father a 
check for $5,000, the money he had saved. The 
parents would have stayed all night, but Frank 
counseled them to seek repose. I was with my 
betrothed all this time, that is why I am able to 
give you a verbatim story of what took place. 

"Frank and I talked of the future, agreed upon 
plans and mode of procedure, and bade one another 
farewell and good-bye, as Frank was to leave for 
his new home in the morning. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Page were on hand next morning; 
they told Frank to be of good cheer, and said adieu. 
His parents wished to accompany him across the 
Bay, but he urged them not to. He feared his 
mother might break down and cause a commotion. 
All being in readiness, the sheriff, Frank and I 
boarded a train and the journey to San Quentin was 
under way. The Sheriff treated Frank more like a 
companion than a prisoner. From the Oakland 
Mole we took the Ferry Boat and were soon in San 

141 


Francisco. Attorney Sweeney met us as we alight- 
ed from the boat. Frank inquired as to his fee for 
defending him. He replied : 

“ ‘You owe me nothing. I could not make an 
able defense, as I was handicapped for lack of evi- 
dence. If I can get you liberated and declared inno- 
cent, then we will talk of pay.’ 

“The boat to convey them to San Quentin was 
waiting. ‘Good-bye, dearest May. May God bless 
you for your fidelity,’ were the last words spoken by 
my affianced as he and the sheriff took seats. I 
watched the boat recede, and waved my handker- 
chief until it had faded from view. 

“The sheriff supplied me with what follows : He 
had a private talk with the warden and gave Frank 
an excellent recommendation, and then surrendered 
him to that official. Frank was measured, weighed 
and shaved, and exchanged his clothes for a suit 
of prison garb. The warden said : ‘I need a clerk ; 
I will retain you in my office. Your number is 1127.’’ 

“As Frank surveyed himself, he said : ‘I am now 
a full fledged convict. Tell my sweetheart I am; 
Number 1127.’ 

“The sheriff shook hands and left. This is my 
story, and the cause of my visitation. The sequel 
is yet to come,” said the teacher. 


142 


CHAPTER XII. 


The Humboldt Big Tree.— Mr. Foley's 
Black Hound. 

The Ducks and the Lake— A Phe- 
nomenon Witnessed by Mr. Foley. 
The Prospector's Life. 

A Jealous Lover’s Revenge. 

A NUMBER of men had assembled at the store 
of Mr. Davis. Among: them was Foley. He 
was opportuned to reg^ale them with a recital. 
“I was in Humboldt once upon a time. Hum- 
boldt County is noted for its big redwood trees. 
Giant Sequoia, the scientists call them. I was ad- 
miring one of these monsters of the forest one day, 
it was i8 or 20 feet in diameter. I remarked it was 
the largest specimen I had ever seen. An old settler 
and woodsman, close by, overheard me and said : 
'You must be a stranger, a tenderfoot in these parts. ^ 
I acknowledged the soft impeachment. ‘This is as a 
mole hill to a mountain when compared with the 
one that up-rooted and fell some years ago near 
Bayside. It was anywhere from 30 to 40 feet in 
diameter; just how tall it was I don’t know, 
stranger, but the top reached over into the next 
county. It lay close to the public road. Some one 
started a fire at the roots and butt, which burned 


143 


the center all out, but left the outside a shell. It 
was burning for several weeks; it even consumed 
the inside of the big limbs. A stock man came along 
with a drove of cattle; there was just an even thou- 
sand in the bunch. When the herd came to this 
big tree the leaders walked right into the hollow 
butt and every other beast followed. The owner 
was mad clear through. There were ten cowboys. 
S'^me of these the boss told to ride on the outside 
of the tree, the rest to go behind the herd. Two- 
thirds of the distance from the butt, the fire had 
burned a hole through to the outside. The opening 
was big enough for a good sized house to fit in. 
When the cattle saw this breach, they veered and 
came out into the open. The owner, with the help 
of the cowboys, counted the drove and found 285 
head missing. Back they went through the tree to 
the butt; no sign of the lost cattle could be seen. 
They began to search in the branches. There were 
found the absent steers. They had strayed into 
the hollowed branches, past the opening. Well, sir, 
the distance from the hole in the side was so great 
that it took them all day to reach the rest of the 
band. It’s a fact, stranger,’ said the old woodsman. 
This is a Humboldt yarn. I am not responsible for 
its veracity. 

“You all know that black hound of mine!” They 
nodded assent. “He was a medium size, coal black 
greyhound. He could run some. For several weeks 
I was prospecting in the vicinity of the Forks of 
Salmon. The dog was my associate. Occasionally 

144 


he would wander off alone for a hunt and be gone 
all day, but returned to camp at night. The day I 
packed up and got ready to leave the Forks, my 
hound was absent ; gone off on one of his periodicals. 
This did not worry me, for I expected when he came 
back, found me gone, he would take up my scent 
and overtake me. When I reached here in the after- 
noon, I stepped into the telephone office and rang 
up the Forks of Salmon. I inquired if any person 
had seen my hound. The manager of the store 
answered: 'Yes, he was just here. Say, I see him 
now going up the road, hitting the high places.’ I 
hung up the phone, walked out into the street ; there 
stood my canine, wagging his tail and glad to see 
me. The distance from the Forks of Salmon to 
Sawyers Bar is sixteen miles, measured. I had not 
exceeded five minutes at the telephone. His hair 
was a trifle moist from perspiration. Yes, that was 
going some. 

'T witnessed a great phenomenon once. I knew 
of a lake that was the favorite resort for ducks, 
when they migrate from the North to the South in 
the fall of the year. I have a weakness for the meat 
of the web-footed birds. Armed with my shot gun 
(Old Betsey) I repaired to this rendezvous to pro- 
cure a mess. When I came in sight of the lake, no 
sign of water was visible ; the quackers covered the 
surface in such a dense body, that no fluid could be 
seen. The lake was three miles in length by one- 
half a mile wide. There must have been millions. 
They were packed so close together I doubt if you 

145 


could have inserted a pin between them. Such a 
noise as they made! They were all quacking at 
once. It is beneath my dignity to shoot birds set- 
ting; I always take them on the wing after they 
rise. I gave a holloa; they rose en masse (gen- 
tlemen, that’s French). I was too astonished to 
shoot. With their* feathers, the ducks had ab- 
sorbed every drop of water in the lake ; it was dry. 
I could have killed hundreds by turning loose Old 
Betsey, but was too amazed, and failed to get any. 

‘Tn the course of a week a traveler passed and 
hailed me : T say, stranger, do you believe in mira- 
cles.’ I answered: 'Yes, I have found it cheaper to 
believe everything that is told me than to go search- 
ing around for evidence to disprove the tales.’ 

“ 'Where I just came from in Oregon, a wonder- 
ful thing happened a few days back. There is a 
hole, or hollow between mountains, that has been 
dry since Noah sailed in the Ark. A lake has sud- 
denly appeared there about three miles long and half 
a mile wide. No one up there can explain it.’ 

"I knew the solution ; those ducks had carried the 
water from my lake and deposited it in Oregon. 

"The prospector is an independent biped. He is 
in a class by himself. From the mother earth he 
seeks to wrest treasures, hidden from the human 
gaze, and increase the circulating medium. Some- 
times he is solitary and alone ; generally there are 
two in partners ; often more. The prospector is the 
pioneer in every mining camp. They make progress 
through the most rugged country, blazing trails, sur- 


146 


mounting obstacles, that to the uninitiated seem 
nigh impossible. They will scale a perpendicular 
cliff, if a pan prospect or piece of gold-bearing ore 
will reward their labor. Buoyed with hope, he 
never says despair. A fortune is just ahead of him ; 
if he does not strike it rich this week, maybe next 
week, or month, or year. His faith is in the future ; 
every cloud has a gold or silver lining to him. He 
is a generous, whole-souled individual. The 
stranger who strays to his camp is invited to partake 
of his frugal repast. If it chance to be night, a re- 
quest to accept of his hospitality till morning is 
forthcoming. An inventory of his stock and utensils 
would comprise flour, baking powder, coffee, sugar, 
bacon and beans ; these last two are staple articles. 
If reduced to exigencies, to the use of these two, and 
flour, the prospector can live and wax fat. Bacon, 
beans and flour are the prime commodities in dis- 
covering mines. His implements of labor are a pick, 
shovel, iron pan for washing dirt, called a gold pan, 
mortar and pestle for pulverizing quartz ; sometimes 
a few luxuries are added to this list, but those enum- 
erated are necessaries. In his pocket he carries a 
magnifying glass, and every piece of float is care- 
fully examined for gold. In his pack or on his 
shoulder is carried a repeating rifle. The country 
through which he travels is the home of deer, bear 
and other wild animals, and furnishes fresh meat. 
When his larder is exhausted, he seeks the nearest 
town, replenishes his commissary, and is off again. 
The small urchin is always his friend, or rather a 

147 


friend of his companion, the long-eared little beast 
of burden. The small boy will follow the donkey 
as long as permitted, in hopes of being rewarded by 
a ride. The first rise of prosperity to California, 
and every mining state, should be credited to these 
delvers after buried treasure. The worthy co-adju- 
tor of the prospector is the burro. Praise should be 
given to these faithful animals for their part in the 
discovery of new mining regions. They plod along 
all day, seemingly contented with their lot, bearing 
a load as large as themselves. When evening comes 
and a camp has been selected, after being unloaded, 
they indulge in a roll on the ground, get up and go 
to feeding^on whatever the country affords. Chunks 
of bread, fat bacon or a dish of beans are luxuries 
to them. A lump of sugar will make a burro hee- 
haw and smile from ear to ear; in the absence of 
these, a few old newspapers, an old ribbon or leather 
boot, will suffice, and even old tin cans are relished 
by these four-footed friends of man. Small favors 
are gratefully received and larger ones in propor- 
tion. They possess cast iron stomachs and digest 
anything from a piece of oak timber to a worn out 
cross-cut saw. About once a month the prospector 
files the burro’s teeth, then he is able to bite a wire 
nail in two. They can be turned loose at night, 
and relied upon to be close to camp in the morning. 
Unlike the horse or mule, they never forsake their 
master. They are patient, companionable little 
animals.” 

s|c * SK * * * 


148 


On the afternoon when Frank Howard received 
the $40,000 for safe keeping, James Stone was pres- 
ent. When he saw the cashier count and place 
the package in a drawer, he communed with him- 
self : 

'‘I have long wanted to gratify my revenge on 
Frank Howard for having won the affection of the 
only woman I ever loved ; here is my opportunity.” 

His plans were soon formed. Tim Desmond, the 
night watchman of the bank, lived in the suburbs 
with a friend. It was his custom to go on duty at 
6 p. m. every evening, and remain till 6 a. m. each 
morning. He had a key to a rear door with which 
he gained entrance. James Stone was familiar with 
this, and the route traveled. On this evening he 
made it his business to meet Tim. 

'*1 have some important papers to look at tonight. 
The president left some unfinished, that he wants 
me to prepare. I will go to the rear door, knock 
twice, you unlock the door and let me in. Father 
wants this kept a secret. You might lose your job 
if he heard you spoke of it.” 

'T will be as dumb as an oyster,” spoke Tim. 

Disguised beyond recognition, James Stone made 
his way to the back door, and gave the signal. A 
key rattled in the lock, a whispered “Who is 
there?” “All right, it’s I, Tim.” 'the door swung 
open and James Stone entered. He had removed his 
false dress, and secreted it outside. He had waited 
until he thought the public asleep. The time was ten 
minutes past one. 


149 


James Stone walked straight to the drawer con- 
taining the $40,000 package, drew from his pocket 
a bunch of keys, tried them until he found one that 
opened the lock. The money was there just as the 
cashier had left it. To transfer the package to his 
person was the work of a second. He first ex- 
amined the contents. The bills were of a large de- 
nomination, one thousand each. One of these he 
drew out. Calling to Tim, he said : 

“This is pay for your silence. Remember, no one 
entered or left the bank. Now let me out.” 

The door was opened, he made his exit, donned 
his disguise and walked to his lodgings. 

James Stone did not reside with his parents. 
When he became dissolute and kept late hours, his 
father told him to practice better habits, or seek 
another abode, so he got accommodations elsewhere. 

Once in his room he stored the money in his trunk 
and locked the same. “Ha, ha,” he chuckled. “If 
this night’s work does not land you in San Quentin, 
Mr. Howard ; and you, my fine lady, if this does not 
cause you many a heart scald and wring tears from 
those pretty eyes, I am no prophet. You rejected 
me for him. Revenge is sweet, and I will have it.” 

The following day, when Tim was sent for, ap- 
peared before the directors, and learned $40,000 was 
missing, he was astounded. When given the $1000 
by James Stone, his Celtic wit reasoned that James 
had done something not on the square, some dirty 
work. He went to James’ habitation. Once inside, 
he delivered a tirade : 


150 


“Jim Stone, you are laughing in your sleeve over 
how you hoodwinked Tim Desmond with that story 
of looking at papers and doing business for your 
father. You must think I am easy, to be satisfied 
with $1,000 when you have $39,000. You have made 
a cat’s paw out of me. Now you hand over $4,000 
more or I will go to the directors and give the whole 
thing away. You are cunning as a fox, but I am 
not asleep.” 

“Look here, Tim Desmond, you are equally as 
guilty and as deep in the robbery as I am. You 
have $1,000 of the stolen money now, which would 
send you to the state’s prison. You want $4,000 
more. Well, there is no use in us quarreling. I will 
give you that sum, but you must not bother me for 
any more. Remember, I did the brain work in 
this scheme. Here is the money.” 

Tim expressed satisfaction, and said good night. 
To himself he mused : “I got that sum easier than 
I expected. I should have hit him for $10,000.” 

Here was exhibited the avarice in some men’s 
nature. The conviction and sentence of Frank 
Howard took place. James Stone was in ecstasy. 
These were his thoughts: “Howard is disgraced 
for life. She has fled to some unknown parts. I 
am avenged.” 


151 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Jack Clancy Saves Two Lives. 

Miss Wilton Receives a Proposal, but 
Refuses. 

A Christmas Entertainment at Saw- 
yers Bar. 

J ACK CLANCY was a fine specimen of manhood. 
His ag-e was 34 years ; he was in the prime of his 
life. The summer he spent chasing the illusive 
Goddess of Fortune. In the winter season he ob- 
tained employment in some operated mine. A tun- 
nel six hundred feet in length had been driven into 
the mountain, and the ore along the vein extracted. 
At this distance the ledge took a dip of 33 degrees 
into the bowels of the mountain. An incline to 
pursue the quartz was sunk 400 feet. Sixty men 
were at work along this incline. A furnace and 
steam engine were stationed at the top to hoist and 
lower the cars by means of a cable. It was sup- 
posed that sparks from the furnace lighted the tim- 
ber of a combustible nature. If there is one thing 
above another that strikes terror to miners, it is an 
underground fire. The alarm was given, the men 
made an escape out into the open air. A roll call 
showed all present except one man, Chris Winters. 
The opinion was general that he was asphyxiated 
and beyond relief. 


152 


“Get a rope, quick!” came from Jack Clancy. 

“What are you going to do?” asked a number of 
men. 

“He has a family; I will make an effort to save 
him.” 

“Why, it’s suicide to venture in there now,” spoke 
the miners. 

“Bring the longest half-inch rope on the works; 
no time to argue now,” said Jack. “If I begin to feel 
overcome, I will tie one end of the rope under my 
arms around my body, you will feel the rope tighten ; 
then haul away.” 

Jack tied a wet sponge over his mouth and nos- 
trils; crouching low, he entered the tunnel. A 
volume of smoke was rolling from the opening. Jack 
carried a lantern in one hand, the rope in the other. 
He made rapid headway. After a painful experience 
he reached the station ; he could go no further. The 
fire was on all sides. He was nearly choked with 
smoke, and thought he would have to turn back, 
when he sighted an object prostrate on the ground. 
He knew his search was rewarded. Hastily tying 
the rope around Chris, he gave the signal agreed 
upon. The rope tightened, the body moved. Jack 
followed. Jack’s jumper caught fire. Pulling it off, 
he threw it behind, and struggled on. His head be- 
gan to whirl, he staggered, reeled and of a sudden, 
fell. The men on the outside did their part so 
well that it took but a short time to pull Chris Win- 
ters out into fresh air. The men knew the reason 
for Jack’s non-appearance. Willing hands seized 

153 


the rope and inade a dash into the tunnel. They 
found Jack as he had fallen. They soon had him 
out where he could inhale the pure ozone. Restora- 
tives were applied. Ere long both men regained 
consciousness. Jack’s first inquiry was : “Did 
Chris come to all right?” A woman stepped for- 
ward and said: “Yes, my benefactor, his wife and 
four children are ready to go down on their knees 
and invoke the blessing of God upon your head for 
having saved their husband and father.” 

“Please, none of that, Mrs. Winters. Soft words 
break me all up.” 

Jack was voted a hero, and was the idol of the 
miners. The fire was subdued and the damage re- 
paired. Jack had kept company with Miss Bartle 
for a year. As yet they had not plighted their 
troth, but the knowing ones foretold a wedding in the 
bye and bye. After her arrival he had met and 
become enamored of Miss Wilton. In comparison, 
the two ladies were dissimilar. The teacher was 
cultured and refined. Her ability as a linguist, her 
associating with the “400” in society made her at 
ease in any company; add to these her personal 
charms, she was as perfect a lady as could be met. 

Miss Bartle was a wild rose, a product of the 
mountains. She had not enjoyed the advantages 
of the favored lady. She was deficient in those 
graces, that polish of manner, which can only be 
acquired by contact with the Bon Tons. 

The recherche Jack noted the discrepancies; his 
ardor cooled for Miss Bartle. He transferred his 


154 


affections to the teacher. Miss Bartle noted the 
change in his demeanor, and her hatred for Miss 
Wilton was intensified. 

This lady perceived Jack’s preference, and dis- 
couraged his advances. Her aim was to treat him 
civilly, not to wound his sensibility. At every sight 
of her, his infatuation increased. He was desper- 
ately in love. It became apparent to the people, and 
a topic for debate. 

Accompanied by Katie Fremont, it was the 
teacher’s practice to take a stroll of a few miles into 
the country on Sunday morning. It was a fine day 
in autumn. They had meandered along the thor- 
oughfare, when the teacher’s footsteps were arrested 
by a noise directly above her head. To her it 
sounded like “whir-ir-ir.” Katie looked up, 
screamed : 

“A rattle snake ! Oh, Miss Wilton, a rattle snake ; 
run for your life, jump!” 

For a second time in her life she was paralyzed 
with fright, unable to move. The rattle snake is 
no respecter of persons ; he does not discriminate 
between a handsome young lady or a burly specimen 
of the genus homo. He was coiled; he had sounded 
the danger warning with his rattles. He was in the 
act of springing to strike, when a pistol shot rang 
out. The snake writhing and quivering in the throes 
of death, for the bullet had torn its head off, 
rolled down the slope and lay almost at her feet. 

Katie was tugging at her arm, yelling: "‘Come 
away, it will bite you.” 


155 


With the report of the weapon the spell was 
broken; her equanimity restored. She looked to see 
from what direction the shot had come. There 
stood her deliverer, Jack Clancy, hat in one hand, 
the weapon in the other. 

“Miss Wilton, I am overjoyed that I was in time 
to be of small service.” 

“For the second time my existence has been pro- 
longed at the opportune moment. The first occasion 
was from an automobile. In both instances my 
blood seemed to stagnate, and I could not help my- 
self. I must bear a charmed life. I passed through 
the small pox unscathed. Mr. Clancy, I have heard 
of the brave deed you performed at the burning 
mine; I am the second person you have saved. I 
am under obligations which I am afraid I never 
can repay.” 

“Miss Wilton, you can more than repay me. You 
can make me the happiest mortal on earth. I know 
I am not worthy of you and it seems presumptuous 
to aspire so far above me. I followed you inten- 
tionally today to learn my fate. If you are free, if 
not already engaged, I pray you will give me con- 
sideration, one little ray of hope. Can you, will you, 
be my wife?” He had dropped to his knees and 
seized her hand. Oblivious of Katie’s presence, who 
stood open-eyed and wondering, he poured forth the 
words in a passionate appeal. 

For several minutes the teacher was silent. “Mr. 
Clancy, I hardly know how to couch my answer. 
This is the most serious problem that has ever 


156 


confronted me. I regret I did not cause my engage- 
ment to be announced on my arrival in Sawyers 
Bar ; it would have saved pain to both of us. The 
man who saved my life in the first instance I have 
promised to marry. I am pledged to him by every 
sacred tie known to the human heart. He is a 
noble man, the soul of honor. You have the stuff 
in you of which heroes are made. Go to Miss 
Bartle; she is pining for your love and will make 
a good wife ; try to be happy with her and forget me. 
Do not, I beseech you, take my refusal seriously. 
Let us retrace our steps.’" 

“One minute, please. I am going to present you 
with a souvenir of this day.” Stooping down he cut 
the rattles from the snake. They numbered nine 
and a button. Presenting them to her, he said: 

“Keep these as a memento of Jack Clancy and 
what might have been.” 

She accepted the gift and they walked back in 
silence. Her thoughts reverted to her innocent 
lover, serving time for a crime he was not guilty of. 
At the gate of her residence she extended her hand : 

“I value your friendship highly, and wish to re- 
tain it. Let us be the same as before today. Is it 
a compact?” 

“Most assuredly. I should have reasoned better 
than to suppose a lady, so beautiful and good, would 
be free from suitors. We will ignore the happen- 
ings and remain friends. Good-bye,” said Jack. 

The teacher cautioned Katie not to mention what 
she had seen or heard. 


157 


Christmas was approaching. The teacher an- 
nounced to the scholars that there would be no clos- 
ing exercises held the last day of school, but an 
entertainment would be given in the Town Hall on 
Christmas Eve. For her to advocate a measure was 
to have it adopted by the community. When the 
lady had occasion to stroll through the principal 
street, every male biped uncovered his head ; a fail- 
ure to doff his hat would have resulted in his head 
gear being forcibly removed by some by-stander. 
The individual who would have had the temerity 
to make an uncomplimentary remark, or even inti- 
mate he did not like her, would have found some 
admirer astride his neck chewing his ear. As Foley 
said : . ^^She is the Angel of Sawyers Bar ; I have 
never seen her wings, but I feel sure she has them.” 

The teacher set to work selecting and assigning 
parts to the children. Some were to declaim ; others 
were to take part in dialogues and plays. For two 
weeks she had them rehearse every day. The school 
closed for the term three days before Christmas. 
The lady, pupils, and Mr. Foley^ decorated the Hall 
and arranged a huge Christmas tree. 

The evening arrived. The tree was dazzling in 
appearance, illuminated with colored lights and 
loaded to its fullest capacity. The tiny tots spoke 
cute pieces ; all acquitted themselves very credita- 
bly. Danny O’Brien read a composition, the title 
of which was ''Then and Now.” It read as fol- 
lows : 


158 


“At this time it seems fitting that a glimpse of 
the past may not be amiss. When assisted by others 
we were responsible for the undoing of some able 
pedagogues. I shall enumerate th-^ most conspicu- 
ous acts of meanness. For several terms that have 
faded into oblivion, we virtually ruled the school. 
Our books or studies never bothered us. It was fun 
or mischief we were looking for. One day in the 
winter season I climbed to the top of the building 
and put an inverted can over the stove pipe. When 
the teacher came, the first thing he did was to fill 
the stove with wood and start a fire. The stove 
began to smoke and soon filled the room. He turned 
the damper one way, then another, but it was no 
use; he was at a loss to account for the action of 
the stove. A girl told him to look on top of the 
pipe. He ascended the building, removed the can. 
We had the outlet of the pipe blocked so the stove 
could not draw. To say he was angry would be 
drawing it mild. We had a long play time while he 
was working to get the stove to draw. He ques- 
tioned each scholar, but nobody did it. The 
younger pupils were afraid to inform on us. We 
had them intimidated. 

“Another time we fixed a bucket of water over 
the door so that the slightest jar would cause it to 
upset the contents over the first person to enter. 
We posted all the pupils to keep away from the 
door. It worked like a charm. The teacher came, 
turned the knob, pushed open the door, and down 
the bucket and water came all over him; he was 


159 


wet clear through, and had to go for dry apparel. 
This gave us another long play. For this, two of 
us were suspended, but were soon re-instated. One 
teacher used to put in his spare time splitting wood. 
A neighbor of mine had cut a fir tree from which' 
the balsam flowed in a stream. I procured a small 
can of this and carried it to school. I sneaked into 
the woodshed and smeared the ax handle good and 
plenty. It was of a white color and not easily no- 
ticed. At recess the teacher sallied out to the shed, 
seized the ax with both hands and made a swing at 
a block of wood. When he tried to drop the ax it 
refused to let go. It stuck to him closer than a 
poor relation. He yelled lustily ; he wrestled around 
the shed and finally succeeded in freeing himself 
from its loving embrace. We were watching the 
performance and could not restrain our shouts of 
laughter. This balsam is more adhesive than muci- 
lage. Coal oil is the only remedy that will remove 
this sticky substance. As there was none handy, 
he had to go to town. This afforded us another long 
recess. Three of us were expelled for this, but again 
we were taken back. 

'‘You have all heard of throwing cayenne pepper 
on a hot stove. We practiced this on one tutor, 
who became so aggrieved that he threw up the school 
at the end of two weeks. Hitting a teacher, with his 
back turned, with big wads of spit balls was a daily 
pastime. We never knew a lesson when called 
upon to recite; we told the pedagogue it was too 
hard, we could not learn it. If he lectured us, we 


160 


would grin at him. We cared nothing for to acquire 
knowledge. 

‘‘It was a stroke of good policy when the Trustees 
hired Miss Wilton. We started our pranks, but this 
lady promptly nipped them in the bud. Of course, 
we could not continue to carry on indefinitely ; there 
had to be a halt. Through kindness and love we 
were made to see the error of our ways. I am 
heartily ashamed of my past Conduct. If I could 
be brought face to face with each teacher whom I 
helped to make miserable, I would tender a manly 
apology and impress upon them that I was sincere 
in my regrets. I can truthfully say I have learned 
more this term under Miss Wilton than I did in four 
preceding terms. All praise to the lady. These 
are the sentiments of my schoolmates.” 

The teacher being called upon, recited : 


THE OLD FASHIONED BOY 

“Oh for a glimpse of a natural boy, 

A boy with freckled face. 

With forehead white ’neath tangled hair. 
And limbs devoid of grace. 

Whose feet toes in while his elbows flare. 
Whose knees are patched always. 
Who turns as red as a lobster when 
You give him a word of praise. 


161 


A boy who is born with an appetite, 

Who seeks the pantry shelf 

To eat his piece with sounding smack; 

Who isn't gone on himself. 

A Robinson Crusoe reading boy, 

Whose pockets bulge out with trash. 

Who knows the use of rod and gun. 

And where the brook trout splash. 

It’s true, he’ll sit in the easiest chair. 

With his hat on his touseled head; 

That his hands and feet are everywhere. 

For youth must have room to spread. 

But he doesn’t dub his father ‘"Old Man,” 

Nor deny his mother’s call; 

Nor ridicule what his elders say. 

Or think that he knows it all. 

A rough and wholesome natural boy. 

Of good old-fashioned clay ; 

God bless him, if he’s still on earth. 

For he’ll make a man some day.” 

The tree was loaded with gifts and the distribu- 
tion took place. The teacher had expended ninety 
dollars of her own money to buy presents for the 
children. None were overlooked. She used judg- 
ment and bought serviceable articles. The exhi- 
bition was the finest ever seen on Salmon River. 


162 


The lady received a number of presents ; among the 
list was a nugget of gold valued at $23.00; a card 
bore the inscription: “From the Placer Miners.’’ 
This she prized above all others. 

The teacher received a call from Miss Bartle. “I 
have come to ask your forgiveness and beg your 
pardon. I am ashamed of my despicable actions; 
you have returned good for evil. Jack Clancy has 
told me all. He has taken your advice, and we 
are engaged; please let us be friends.” 

“Yes, we should have good will towards every one 
this blessed Yule Time. Mr. Clancy is a fine man 
and I am pleased he has returned to his first love,” 
spoke Miss Wilton. 

“I have a large stock of dry goods. If you care 
to enter my employ and preside over the ladies’ de- 
partment, I will pay you a good salary,” said Mr. 
Davis. 

“When not at work I suffer from ennui. This will 
occupy my time during vacation. I believe in 
union rules, and will not be on duty more than eight 
hours, or remain after 6 P. M. My salary will be 
$50.00 per month. If this is satisfactory, I will be- 
come your employe?,” spoke the teacher. 

“All of which is agreeable to me,” said the mer- 
chant. He instructed her in the cost and selling 
price of the goods, and the lady entered upon the 
duties of a saleslady. 


163 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Mr. Foley’s Wonderful Greyhound, and 
What Happened to It. 

■How Salmon River Got Its Name, 
AS Explained by Mr. Foley. 

The Origin of the Hook Bill Salmon. 

M ISS WILTON and her betrothed were regfular 
in their correspondence. Each week she wrote 
a letter and received one in return. Frank 
Howard ^ave an account of prison life, of his work at 
the Warden’s office. That he did not ming-le with the 
other convicts. That all thingfs considered, he was 
well treated. His letters were in a hopeful mood. 

Mrs. Page wrote a motherly article. It pictured 
how lonesome the good woman was. How she 
missed May, and implored her to return to “Old 
Aunty,” and comfort her declining years, as soon as 
possible. 

Foley was urged to relate an anecdote : “I owned 
a greyhound, in the middle mines, that could dis- 
count anything for speed and endurance that 
boasted four legs. He was a large dog, bright bay 
in color. You all know a deer is the fleetest animal 
that roams the hills or dales. Whenever my hound 
got sight of a deer, it was all off with the venison. 
If there was any of his tribe handy, he made signs 

164 


to his relatives, I -will not be home. The swift 
footed hare and rabbit were just common amuse- 
ment for the dog. He disdained to chase squirrels 
or small game. I was out hunting one day and spied 
a deer in the distance. The hound started in pur- 
suit; I brought up the rear. The deer headed for 
a thick belt of timber. At the base of a big fir 
tree lay my dog in two halves, quivering and gasp- 
ing. He had got under such impetus he failed to 
avoid the tree, struck, and the force split him in 
two, slick and clean, just as if it had been done with 
a knife. I had some knowledge of surgery, so I 
picked up the two halves and hastily joined them 
together. In my hurry and excitement, I reversed 
the ends, that is, I put half the head and a half the 
rear in company, with the result that one front 
and one hind leg were on the ground, whilst the 
other front and hind legs were in the air perpendi- 
cular. When I surveyed the job and saw the con- 
trast, I was inclined to rectify the error, but when 
I examined the animal I perceived he was breathing 
from both ends, and the knitting of the flesh was 
taking place, so I concluded to let him go as he 
lay. I went to my cabin, got some food, water and 
a blanket, brought these to where my hound was, 
went off and let him take his chances. I visited him 
every day and he was doing fine. On the fifth day 
when I started for home the hound ambled along 
after me. He would travel on half of him for a 
piece, then flop over on the opposite side. He could 


165 


navigate equally well on either half. I imagined 
his hunting days were over. Not so; in a few 
days he was up to his old tricks; he was not so 
speedy as before the accident, but he never seemed 
to tire; could run indefinitely. He had the advan- 
tage of being able to see all ways, straight ahead, 
behind, side-ways and cross-ways. The deer knew 
him ; when one saw the hound chasing him, he 
stopped and awaited the slaughter. The deer rea- 
soned, it’s no use to resist, that hound will get me 
sure. I might as well yield up the ghost; I am 
booked for the happy hunting grounds, so just break 
the news to mother. I missed my hound for sev- 
eral days, he had been absent; I was on the point 
of searching for him, when I read in the morning 
paper this account: ‘Two hunters shot and killed 
a strange looking animal yesterday in the moun- 
tains not far from here, and brought the carcass to 
town. It was chasing a deer. Of a sudden the 
venison stopped-, seemingly paralyzed with fear. 
The hunters say this strange creature would run 
awhile on two legs, then turn a somersault and 
run on the other two legs. The hunters are sober 
men ; it is hard to question their veracity. As he 
was about to spring on the deer the hunters shot 
him. When examined, it was apparent nature had 
deformed the beast. Scientists, who inspected the 
carcass, say it is a monstrosity, a mammoth Ichthy- 
ophagous, a species supposed to be long since ex- 
tinct. It will be given to a taxidermist, and after- 


166 


wards sent to the Smithsonian Institute at Wash- 
ington.’ From the description, I recognized my 
hound, but never put the newspaper wise. 

“Did I ever tell you how this river came by its 
name? When the first settlers arrived in this 
section, in quest of gold, there were no bridges or 
means of crossing. Those who desired to gain the 
opposite side were compelled to swim, or remain 
where they were. A prospector, leading a mule, 
was anxious to gain the other side. It was the 
spring of the year. The snow in the mountains 
was melting. The river was running banks full. 
With the rise in the water, a run of salmon began. 
The stream was full, school upon school, a solid 
body of them. The prospector said : T christen 
thee Salmon River.’ As he gazed a brilliant idea 
seized him : ‘ I believe that mass of fish will sus- 

tain the weight of myself and mule, and enable us 
to reach the other side. I’ll try it.’ Leading the 
mule, he ventured upon the backs of the finny 
tribe; the fish seemed to take a pride in being 
used as a bridge and arched their backs higher, to 
afford dry walking. At first the man went cautious- 
ly, but as the weight made no perceptible depres- 
sion, or sinking, he gained confidence and moved 
rapidly to the opposite shore. As he merged on 
dry land, he paused for a few minutes to express 
thanks to the fish. He noted that not even were 
his feet wet. The mule was busy taking a look 
backward ; he spied a big salmon, one of the largest 

167 


of its species, close to the edge. The Hybrid animal 
could not resist its inherent nature to kick. The 
big fish was within easy range of its hind feet. The 
mule let drive, and landed fairly on the snout of the 
salmon, which caused its bill to hook or bend. 
Before making the acquaintance of the mule’s hind 
feet, salmon were all of one kind, straight bills; 
since that encounter, all posterity of the kicked 
fish have a curve in their nose and are known as 
Hook Bill Salmon, as a lasting reproach to the mule ; 
but that long-eared quadruped did not seem to shed 
any tears over it. 

'T notice my friend. Judge Barnes, is present,” 
said Foley, with a twinkle of his eye. “I was travel- 
ing once and came to a town. I entered the leading 
hotel in search of something to appease the inner 
man. A burly negro, black as the ace of spades, 
stepped up, and enquired : ‘Do you wish dinner, 
sah? If so, just step into the dining room. My 
wife will attend to your wants.’ I walked in, ex- 
pecting to see a colored Aunt Dinah, but was dis- 
appointed. A fine looking Caucasian woman came 
to take my order. I asked if that African was con- 
nected with the hotel. ‘Why, yes, he is my husband, 
and the proprietor.’ ‘Your husband,’ I repeated, 
‘why, that’s the worst I ever heard.’ ‘My sister 
did much worse than that ; she married a Missour- 
ian.’ 

“A woman had a sick boy back in old Missouri. 
She sent for a physician. On reaching the house, 

168 


the M. D. felt the youth’s pulse, and said ‘open your 
mouth and let me see your tongue.’ The lad gazed 
at the medical man bewildered. He repeated the 
demand, with the same result. The mother said: 
‘Son, open thy gob and stick out thy lollicker.’ The 
mouth opened and the tongue protruded. ‘He don’t 
savey your lingo, doctor,’ said the mother. 

“I started to make a journey that would consume 
the major part of a day, so took a lunch with me. 
My food consisted of two large home-made biscuits 
and a piece of meat. I tied these up in a bandana, 
and carried it in my hand. As I was passing a 
neighbor’s, he hailed me to stop and chin awhile. 
This man had two boys old enough to be full of 
mischief and curiosity. They were named Billy 
and Jimmy. I laid my bundle on a post, and sat 
on the porch to swap yarns with the father. I 
noticed the youngsters eyeing my parcel. Directly 
they edged up and took it down, and proceeded to 
undo it. They spread it out on the ground. One 
said : ‘What do you think it is, Billy,’ as he ex- 
amined one of my biscuits. ‘I dunno, Jimmy, must 
be a turtle or terrapin. Run get a coal of fire out 
of the stove, and we’ll make him walk.’ Jimmy 
brought the coal of fire and put it on the biscuit. 
‘Now blow, Billy, blow hard with your breath, and 
when it gets hot, he’ll move.’ I thought it was 
time to rescue my biscuit, or I would be minus a 
lunch. I went to them and said: ‘Boys, what are 
you trying to do?’ ‘We want to make this terrapin 


169 


walk, he is playing possum/ I said: ‘That’s no 
terrapin; it’s a biscuit/ ‘Run Jimmy, come away, 
it might go off. They both took to their heels. The 
father came, looked, and said: ‘Them is some like 
dodgers my mother used to make to go with sop.’ 
That’s the Missouri name for gravy or sauce. ‘We 
wallop the dodgers in the sop, and I tell you, it’s 
larrapin good truck, neighbor.’ 

“A steamer ascending the Mississippi River met 
a flat boat descending. The Captain of the steamer 
hailed the master of the flat boat : ‘Ship ahoy, what 
are you loaded with?’ ‘Lumber and fruit,’ came the 
response. ‘What kind of lumber and fruit, and 
where do you hail from?’ ‘Hoop poles and pump- 
kins; Pike County, Missouri. Luff away on that 
main stay, you blasted land lubber.” 


170 


CHAPTER XV. 


Tim Desmond Makes a Confession. 
James Stone Ends His Life, and 
Thus Escapes Temporal Punish- 
ment. 

Frank Howard Is Pardoned and 
Released. 



IM DESMOND was a firm believer in the Cath- 


olic J^aith. Every Sunday he was a regfular 


^ attendant at Church. Dating: from his intrigfue 
with James Stone, he abandoned his relig^ious duties 
to a g^reat extent. Six months had flown and Tim 
had only been seen at the house of worship twice. 
The Priest soug^ht him, and administered a rebuke for 
his lack of zeal. 

''You have neglected your duties. Have you be- 
^ come a backslider or an apostate?’’ He urged Tim 
to come back into the fold and be a good Christian. 

Tim was suffering from remorse of conscience. 
That small still voice that comes in the silent 
watches of the night, reproved him for the part he 
had taken in the robbery. He feared to go to con- 
fession, and this duty he must perform before he 
could receive the Blessed Sacrament. One year 
had elapsed, and Tim was still perverse. The pas- 
tor interviewed him once more. 


171 


“My dear man, if you have done some act you are 
ashamed of, something that is troubling you, make 
a clean breast of it and you will receive forgiveness 
and feel relieved. Remember the case of the peni- 
tent thief on the cross. If you do not return to the 
Church and your duties, you are excommunicated 
ipso facto.” 

Tim’s conscience and the entreaties of the good 
Priest were a combination he could no longer re- 
sist. He replied: 

‘T have taken part in a crime for which I have 
been tortured by anguish. An open confession is 
good for the soul, I have heard. My mind is made 
up. Tomorrow I will tell you all and be guided by 
your counsel.” 

“See that you do,” said the Priest. 

Tim would long ere this have given to the author- 
ities a statement of the bank robbery, if convinced 
of immunity from prosecution. Agreeable to prom- 
ise, he repaired to the Priest’s abode and avowed 
everything in relation to the stealing of the Forty 
Thousand Dollars. The Priest instructed him how 
to proceed to obtain clemency for himself. He 
urged him to use haste to repair the wrong and have 
Frank Howard liberated. 

The Sheriff was in his office when informed that 
Mr. Desmond wished to see him on private busi- 
ness. 

“Show him in,” said the official. 

“Well, Tim, what can I do for you?” 


172 


“Frank Howard never stole that money for which 
he was convicted. I know who did, but before I 
deliver the proof, I must have a promise from those 
in authority, that the accomplice will not be mo- 
lested.” 

“I will send for the District Attorney and also 
Mr. Howard’s attorney,” spoke the sheriff. A tele- 
gram was sent Lawyer Sweeney; as fast as boat 
and cars could travel, he came. When all had 
gathered in the office, Tim made the same proposal 
he had made to the Sheriff. 

They agreed that the accessory should be used as 
State’s evidence and be exempt from the law. Tim 
related the particulars of the robbery. He had no 
excuse to offer for his part, except that he had been 
duped by James Stone’s plea of wanting to fix 
papers for the President. He produced the Five 
Thousand Dollars, and handed the money to the 
Sheriff. His confession was reduced to writing, 
signed and sworn to before a Notary Public. Tim 
was told he might go his way. 

A complaint was sworn to by Attorney Sweeney, 
a warrant issued and placed in the hands of the 
Sheriff for the arrest of James Stone. 

Armed with Tim’s confession and a letter from 
the Sheriff, Attorney Sweeney boarded the first 
train for Sacramento to lay the evidence before the 
Governor and secure a pardon for Frank Howard. 
The spectacle of the Sheriff at the bank was some- 
thing extraordinary. He enquired for James Stone. 

173 


That individual stepped to the counter. In a sub- 
dued tone of voice the officer acquainted him with 
the facts in his possession. 

'T advise you to submit quietly to arrest, and not 
cause a scene. I am prepared to take you.” 

“Excuse me to put away the books, and I will be 
ready,” said James Stone. 

The Sheriff nodded assent. He was not prepared 
for what ensued. James Stone returned to his place 
hastily, arranged affairs, then stepped behind the 
desk, where he was obscured from view. From a 
pocket he drew a four-ounce phial of carbolic acid, 
placed it to his mouth and drained the contents. He 
staggered into sight. The empty bottle had fallen 
to the floor. The Sheriff and bank employees hur- 
ried to his side. He would have fallen, but gentle 
hands placed him upon an improvised couch; a 
physician and the ambulance were summoned, but 
before these arrived James Stone’s spirit had gone 
to answer before a higher tribunal than any on this 
mundane sphere. His last words were : 

“They will never arrest me.” 

The President ordered the bank closed and busi- 
ness suspended. As soon as the body was removed 
to the morgue, the coroner impaneled a jury, who 
rendered a verdict of suicide. In the pocket of 
James Stone’s coat was found a document which 
read: 

“Realizing that my secret may be divulged, I am 
prepared for that emergency. In my trunk in the 


174 


rooms I occupy will be found what remains of the 
Thirty Five Thousand Dollars. How I have spent 
the balance is nobody’s business. I am not a thief 
by nature. I saw a chance to be revenged on Frank 
Howard, and I took it. My mother is the only one 
for whom I have any regrets if discovered ; the blow 
will fall heavily on her. My father I care nothing 
for. The opinion of the public does not concern 
me. I will never be taken alive. Signed, James 
Stone.” 

An examination of the trunk disclosed Twenty- 
three Thousand Dollars; the remainder of $12,- 
000 had been spent playing the races. The coroner 
took charge of this sum and turned it over to the 
bank directors. 

On reaching the Capital City, Attorney Sweeney 
was handed a telegram apprising him of the suicide. 
He had no difficulty in obtaining a full pardon for 
Frank Howard from the Chief Executive. His next 
move was towards San Quentin. Arrived there, 
he delivered the papers. The Warden honored them 
and told Frank Howard he was a free man. His 
personal belongings were restored, he donned his 
citizen’s clothes, and drew forth a handsome gold 
ring, presented it to the Warden, saying: 

^^Keep this as a remembrance cf my gratitude for 
your humane treatment.” 

never believed you guilty ; I shared the opinion 
of the judge, who was forced to impose sentence on 
you. It is just twelve months and nine days since 


175 


you became an inmate of this institution/’ said the 
Warden. ‘'Now good-bye, and may good luck at- 
tend you.” 

Frank Howard stepped into the open. The doors 
clanged behind him. He exclaimed: 

“Liberty, no man knows what a priceless treasure 
thou art until he has been deprived of thee; this 
glorious sunshine, yon blue sky; this health giving 
ozone, and freedom to go where you please ; all these 
benefits are denied the unfortunates confined in this 
prison.” 

Mr. Howard and Attorney Sweeney took passage 
on the boat, and by 6 p. m. were in San Francisco. 

“For the parents of James Stone I have sincere 
sympathy; this disgrace will be hard for them to 
bear,” said Frank Howard. 

His first deed was to send a message to his affi- 
anced, Miss May Wilton; it read: 

“Am free, expect me in a few days.” 

He crossed the Bay and went direct to the home 
of his parents. They were expecting him and were 
over-joyed at his release and the establishing of his 
innocence. Frank received many messages of con- 
gratulation. The newspapers that evening con- 
tained a complete account of the crime and expose 
of the real culprits. The following morning Mr. 
Howard received an urgent communication from 
President Stone to call at his residence. He went, 
and was grieved at the change. Mr. Stone looked 
twenty years older. As they clasped hands, he said : 


176 


'‘No one rejoices at your vindication more than I 
do, but oh, Frank, at what a cost to my wife and me. 
The pain, the disgrace that recoils on us is almost 
more than we can bear. Tell me, was it my son 
whom you suspected from the first ?” 

“Yes, Mr. Stone. The lady to whom I am en- 
gaged to be married had rejected James; this em- 
bittered him against me. Next, he was the only 
person who knew of the money being in the drawer 
that night, outside of Mr. Bailey and myself. His 
hatred towards me was observed by others. For 
these reasons I felt he was the guilty one.” 

“Frank, why did you not tell me; I might have 
averted this calamity.” 

“Mr. Stone, bear in mind that what I have told 
was only an opinion, and opinions do not stand in 
law. Had I intimated to you my belief, you would 
have been incredulous; besides, I had a high re- 
gard for you, and did not wish to wound yOur feel- 
ings.” 

“Frank, I have decided to retire from business 
life. I am going to resign the Presidency of the 
bank in your favor. I cannot bear to appear in pub- 
lic. My wife is under the care of a physician; he 
has grave fears for her recovery. I have a farm 
in the country and will seek its seclusion. If the 
position of President be tendered, will you accept?” 

“Mr. Stone, the office is an enviable one. Any 
man would be proud to be the recipient of ruch 
a high honor. If it is given me spontaneously I will 


177 


accept it. I have private business that will consume 
my time for a few days; in fact, I expect to be a 
happy benedict.’^ 

‘‘On your return, call on me, and the matter 
spoken of will be arranged to our satisfaction,’^ said 
Mr. Stone. 

Frank Howard took his leave. He went direct to 
see Mr. and Mrs. Page, Where he received an af- 
fectionate welcome. He told the aunt and uncle that 
he would start that evening for the purpose of bring- 
ing Miss May Wilton home, and their wedding 
would follow. 


178 


CHAPTER XVI. 


Two Hearts Are Re-United. — A Wedding 
AT Sawyers Bar. 

Frank Howard Assumes the Position 
OF Bank President. 

F or more than four months Miss Wilton had 
been employed as saleslady, when one day 
she received a teleg^ram from Frank Howard; 
in her exultation she showed the messag-e to Mr. Davis. 

''I am both pleased and grieved,” said the mer- 
chant. “Your joy in the release of Mr. Howard, 
which should over-shadow every other sentiment, 
I share with you, but it pains me to know we shall 
lose you. I have the satisfaction of knowing I was 
justified in bringing you here. You have proved 
a worthy disciplinarian. Miss Wilton, I wish you 
had a sister or even a prototype. If such were the 
case, I would soon be a married man, with the con- 
sent of the lady.” 

“It will require an effort to sever the associations 
formed in this community. Everybody has been 
kind and lent me valuable support. My dear aunt 
has been a mother to me, and my first consideration 
must be for her.” 

Two days later Mr. Frank Howard reached Saw- 
yers Bar. The reader can picture in his mind’s 

179 


eye the meeting between the lovers after a separa- 
tion of twelve months and a half. The news went 
out that the school was to lose its teacher; that 
her intended husband had come to take her away. 
A meeting of the citizens was held and the condi- 
tion discussed. The sentiment was in favor of hav- 
ing the marriage ceremony performed in the town. 
A committee of three was appointed to wait on the 
lady and Mr. Howard, and inform them of the 
wishes of the people and gain their assent. Mr. 
Davis, Claw Hammer Pete and Live Oak Jack 
comprised the committee. They sought the resi- 
dence of the teacher, and Mr. Davis made known 
their errand. Mr. Howard told them Miss Wilton 
could decide. The lady said : 

“Gentlemen, I yield, in recognition of the many 
friends I have made, and the affection I feel towards 
the whole country. We will be married here.” 

Calling Mr. Howard aside. Claw Hammer Pete 
spoke : 

“Partner, we are all going to chip in and make 
this a big pot. There will be no passing the buck ; 
everyone has got to ante and play his hand. I 
reckon as how you’ll have the pop hand and carry 
off the prize, but we’ll have a square shuffle, cut 
and deal, and a big whoop ’em up time.” 

“Yes, we’ll have a blow-out that will astonish 
the natives. Red fire, string band, big eat, and 
shake your leg. Every man must wear store 
clothes, a boiled shirt, and have a clean bandana. 


180 


We’ll have three kinds of pie, bald face, open face, 
and covered. Real oyster soup with milk in it. 
There’s nothing too good for you-uns, and we-uns 
will set ’em up again,” said Live Oak Jack. 

So it was settled. A courier was dispatched to 
Yreka for the license. The Town Hall was taste- 
fully decorated for the wedding. A dance was to 
follow and supper served at the hotel. In twenty- 
four hours the man with the license returned. 
Notice had been sent to the surrounding country 
that the jollification would take place that evening. 

At 8 P. M. the organ pealed forth a wedding 
march. The bridal party entered and took their 
respective places. Judge Barnes was radiant in 
evening dress. His dignified presence befitted the 
occasion. Miss Bartle was bridesmaid, Mr. Clancy 
best man, and Mr. Davis gave the bride away. 
They were the handsomest couple ever married at 
Sawyers Bar. 

''This wedding gives an eclat (that’s French) to 
the whole town,” spoke Mr. Foley. 

After the words, "I pronounce you man and wife,” 
the Judge stole a kiss from the pretty lips of the 
bride. 

"You never learned that in Missouri. There’s no 
'show me’ about that performance,” said Foley. 

After the congratulations, all adjourned to the 
ball room. The bride was besieged for dances. She 
favored each in turn. At midnight all sat down to 
the festal board. 


181 


‘‘I propose the health and prosperity of the bride 
and bridegroom,” said the merchant. It was re- 
sponded to with a cheer. 

‘Xadies and gentlemen: We_ meet people to 
whom we become strongly attached. When these 
tender interests are about to be torn asunder, when 
we are about to separate, it creates a sad feeling. 
When we come in contact with refined people, it 
leaves an impression; we feel better. Mrs. Howard 
has accomplished wonders with our school, which 
will suffer an irreparable loss.” 

“I never lived in a place where I was better 
treated. I can never forget the people of Salmon 
River. I shall visit you for an outing some time, 
and renew our friendship,” said Mrs. Howard. 
“Mr. Foley, let us hear from you.” 

“I will read you a clipping from an Arizona 
paper: ‘Spread of style in Arizona. Every symp- 
tom points to a tendency to spread of style in Tomb- 
stone. Among other instances in this direction, the 
boys bought a pair of beautiful barber pole sus- 
penders and presented them to the amiable dis- 
penser who shoves the amber extract of cheerful- 
ness over the mahogany of the Parlor Saloon. He 
promptly donned the innovation, but claimed that 
he felt like he had a fence rail on each shoulder; 
then when they became over-burdensome, he would 
unbutton them and permit them to dangle in front, 
but he finally got them down fine enough to go to 
church in. Several old-timers conspicuously court- 


182 


ing attendants from the other end of the County 
have fallen into the habit of wearing boiled shirts, 
and it looks as if sky-blue overalls might be dis- 
carded as a full dress costume. ''Getting powerful 
tony” in town nowadays.’ 

"The above aptly describes the conditions that 
existed in this burg twenty-five years ago. The 
following incident will illustrate an Eastern syndi- 
cate who were the prospective buyers of a group 
of mines. They sent out an expert to examine and 
report. He was a dapper little fellow, sort of dude. 
The boys took exceptions to his i ersonal appearance 
and more particularly to his wearing apparel. He 
wore a tall hat, broadcloth suit, an immaculate white 
shirt with a diamond in the bosom, patent leather 
shoes, and carried a gold headed cane; a swallow 
tailed coat, which he exhibited, and the first of its 
kind seen here, excited the derision of the boys. 
An impromptu gathering debated the novelties and 
resolved to take action. Buckskin Bill was spokes- 
man. 'Are we going to allow them new fangled 
garments to parade and flourish in our midst? That 
stove pipe, chimney peak hat looks just like a 
monument a locator erects on one corner of a quartz 
ledge. That spike tail coat, looks like the man who 
made it was short of material and run it through to 
a point, and them shiny leather shoes are too dainty 
for this terra firma (I have to inject a little Latin; 
my knowledge of the Dead languages is something 
fierce, said Foley). These articles enumerated can- 


183 


not mingle with our toggery. The shades of Pioneers 
echo, No !’ A dance was given on Saturday evening. 
The boys were more than liberal in their invitations 
to imbibe, but the expert said he never indulged. 
The boys’ idea was to get him intoxicated, but he 
was wary. At supper time the opportunity came. 
They obtained the hat ; the first thing was to paint 
it green; then they placed it on the end of a pole 
and marched from one end of town to the other, 
singing, ' ’Tis a relic of old decency, that hat my 
father wore.’ By way of diversion, someone would 
out with his gun and shoot a hole through the head- 
gear. At every saloon they would line up at the 
bar and address the hat thus : Will you join us in 
a little liquid refreshment?’ When they had a sur- 
feit of this kind of fun, they carried the hat to 
where stood the flag-staff, ran one of the halyards 
through the stove pipe and hoisted it half way up; 
in that way they left it. In the morning it was 
visible at half mast. To any one who enquired, the 
answer was : 'Oh, the hat died last night.’ 

“The expert was mad as a hornet, but concluded 
silence was the better part of valor. He hastily 
departed. On arriving in the East, he characterized 
the men here as 'desperadoes and bad men from 
away back.’ 

“I have a little doggerel composed for the occa- 
sion,” said Foley: 


184 


“It must be sweet as life’s pathway you tread, 
To know you are loved and just been wed 
To the lady of your choice, one who through life 
Will be to you a helpmate, a dear, happy wife. 

Should sorrow or trouble retard your progress. 
Smile and look pleasant, your wifey caress. 

She’ll give you her whole heart, 

I pray give her thee and thine. 

And you’ll be happy as pigs in clover, 

Tn the good old summer time.’ ” 


This ended the festivities. As they had assembled 
to welcome the lady on her arrival, so the people 
gathered to bid herself and husband God-speed, and 
see them depart. A private conveyance was se- 
cured, and amidst a shower of rice and the throwing 
of old slippers, hand-shaking and farewells, Mr. and 
Mrs. Howard bid adieu to the good folks of Salmon 
River. 

As Claw Hammer Pete remarked : “The wedding 
was a red letter day in the history of Sawyers Bar.” 

In safety they reached Oakland and went to Mr. 
and Mrs. Page’s, their home for the future. 

Mr. Howard called to see Mr. Stone the next 
day. That gentleman told Frank his resignation 
was in the hands of the directors, and that they 
were all agreed to offer the presidency of the bank 
to Mr. Howard. “They seem anxious to make 
amends for the injustice done you,” said Mr. Stone. 


185 


‘‘I do not care to assume the function for a week. 
I have just been married and wish to enjoy the 
honeymoon,” spoke Mr. Howard. 

At the expiration of the period, Mr. Howard 
sought the bank and was elected to its highest 
office. The directors were profuse in their apologies 
for the course pursued by them. Frank accepted 
all with a good grace. 

“My first act will be to restore Tim Desmond 
in his old position. He has had a lesson, and I will 
vouch for him.” The directors offered no objection, 
so Mr. Frank Howard, President of the Corn and 
Exchange bank, took charge. 

Attorney Sweeney, who so faithfully espoused his 
cause, was asked to name his fee. 

“I will be satisfied with whatever you piease to 
give.” 

Mr. Howard paid him one thousand dollars. 

Mr. and Mrs. Howard had their adversity now 
they are reaping their reward, prosperity. 

FINIS. 


186 






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